


Of ice and shadow

by Laudys



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 14:39:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 42,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18551818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laudys/pseuds/Laudys
Summary: This story begins with the unexpected birth of Serena Stark, twin of Eddard Stark. Adored by her mother, connected almost mystically to her twin, despised by her father and sister, she will become one of the most important women in her kingdom. Throughout her steel grey eyes, we will discover, under another perspective, the events that have ravaged Westeros.Translation in English from my French fan fiction.





	1. Chapter 1

Winterfell, 263 AC

The wind blows violently, taking with it clouds of white powder that crash against the great stone walls of the castle, without a noise. The night is jet-black, but a weak light can be seen at one of the windows of the castle, and the silence is a requirement in this long winter night. The violent wind creeps in the least slit, and howls like a wild wolf as it penetrates the rooms of Winterfell. The housemaids shiver as they bring warm linen. Nan, at the Starks service, climbs up the steps that lead to her mistress’ room. Her basket is heavy, she is tired after this day, her cheeks red with effort and cold. She stops a moment, wipes her glowing forehead with the back of her hand, and takes a deep breath before climbing up the last steps, and stepping in a corridor where her master, Lord Rickard Stark, stands. She respectfully greets him before opening the door he seems to keep. Heat hits her as a slap in her face. The freezing wind cools the castle, but, in this room, the hot breaths of the too many people present turn the air asphyxiating. Nan glances at the bed, where her mistress, Lord Stark’s wife, Lyarra, is letting harrowing yells out while she is trying to push the baby out of her womb. For now, it is still impressively round and big, and keeps inside, still for a moment the promise of a shining future for this great house of Westeros. The young couple have been blessed with the birth of their first child, a boy called Brandon. He is just a baby, having barely celebrated his first named, a few moons before the birth of his brother. 

Nan startles violently when Lady Lyarra falls back on her pillow. Her hair is drenched with sweat, her look exhausted. She seems to suffer a lot, way more than for Brandon’s birth. Maester Walys, giving birth to this child, supports her, cheers her up. Lyarra shakes her head and a few tears roll over her cheeks:

« Something is wrong… » she sighs wearily. « I ache too much, it is not normaaaaaal » her sentence dies in a yes that rings out in the whole room. 

In the corridor, Rickard does not dare coming in. As for Brandon, he prefers staying out. He feels like it being alongside his wife is not his place, despise all the love he has for her. Maternity, delivery are the matter of women, except for the maester who accompanies them in this trial. The lord of Winterfell cannot stand hearing his wife yelling like she does, aching without him being able to do whatsoever. The Starks are never useless, or seldomly. He leans the back of his skull against the cold stones of the wall, and closes his eyes a moment, trying to give some of his strength to his wife. He does not know if it s efficient, but, after a few minutes, another shout mixes with the woman’s. More piping, and weaker. Rickard cannot help smiling: his son is born.   
Layera does not stop yelling, even when Walys shows her her newborn, covered with blood and white liquid. The maester does not understand, and, while he checks everything is alright with her, he realizes he touches a hard and round form. He looks between the legs of his mistress, and gasps with surprise: black hair can be shown. Walys guides this second baby out of her mother’s womb, and, only then, Lyarra stops shouting. The maester carefully places the baby on her chest and smiles slightly:

« It’s a girl… »

Layera smiles back at him, and Walys walks to the door, his heart hammering in his chest: he fears his master’s anger. Truly said, he does not understand what happened. He has never suspected there was two babies during this pregnancy. His hand leans on the handle, he swallows hard, and bows sightly:

« My Lord, you have a son… »

Rickard does not let him finish, and, grinning broadly, he walks to his wife. Lyarra is smiling softly at him. He looks down to his son, and sees the two bodies. He turns to Walys:

« What is this? » he says with a surpassed anger. 

« I… I have no explanation, my Lord… None… I did not realize… » Walys stammers. 

« Yes, that is what I am blaming you for, Maester », Rickard barks. 

He feels Lyarra taking his hand, and turns back to her:

« The most important thing is that these children are healthy, don’t you think? »

« You are right, my wife, but… » he starts then stops. « No, you are right » he smiles and seals their agreement with a kiss on the sweaty brow of his wife. 

« Are we still agreeing on Eddard for the boy? » she asks. 

Rickard nods and his eyes go to the little girl: she looks like her brother, and it would have been difficult to differentiate them if they had been dressed. 

« I know only one pair of twins in our House. Two girls. Sansa and Serena » he says while his index brushes the cheek of his daughter. His first daughter. 

« I like Serena » Lyarra smiles and Rickard nods again. 

« Serena it will be. Now, get some rest. I will bring you Brandon later. »

He kisses her brow one last time and leaves the room. Lyarra closes her eyes, holding her children tighter against her chest. Serena’s hand grabs Eddard’s one, and they all fall asleep. 

Outside the castle, the wind has calmed down, and the snow is now falling heavily. The castle falls back into silence and, in his room, hidden from the view, Brandon Stark does not realize yet his family has two new members. 

Thousand of miles south, another child has cried for the first time. Looking alike the twins, except for his eyes. The twins’ eyes are as grey as his are blue. His brother is as old as Brandon, and, later, he will resemble him on many levels. His name is Stannis, ice and stone mixed.


	2. Determined

Winterfell, 264 AC

The little arms wave around, trying to maintain a precarious balance. Feet are naked, tiny, against the big stones that form the ground of the corridor. The legs shake, threaten to bend, and, in a struggle to remain straight, end up moving away from each other, slowly, carefully. One takes a step forward, the other one join it, and go forward again. The grey eyes stare at two smiling faces, and hands hold at him. He is not scared of falling, but is still unsure of his muscles. He moves his leg, leans his foot on the cold ground, and falls off, face first.   
Rickard rushes on Ned, takes him in his arms. The child does not even cry. He just seems distraught. By his side, Lyarra has not moved.   
“Rickard, look” she says blankly, as if the least noise would make the walls of the castle collapse. The lord of Winterfell turns to her and looks, with Ned, at his other child, Serena, walking towards her mother with a way more assured step, squealing excited and happiness just before she lets herself falling in her mother’s arm.   
“Congratulations!” Lyarra grins broadly at her before she gives her two noisy kisses on her cheeks, making the baby laugh. Ned, in his father’s arms, kicks her legs and moans to get down. He places him back on the ground and the toddler stands back on his legs, and makes his first steps without falling. He turns to his father with a huge grin, and Rickard claps noisily before picking him up as easily as if his son was a feather.  
“My son!” He shouts, overjoyed and proud.   
Lyarra looks at him, holding Serena in her arms, and tilts her head:  
“Why are you reacting this way, my Lord? You have not even looked at your daughter”  
Rickard shrugs:  
“It is obvious Eddard has taught her everything”  
The lady of Winterfell raises an eyebrow:  
“Serena cannot wall before Eddard just because she’s a girl?”  
Rickard does not answer, but rolls his eyes, and Lyarra slides her arm under his, leading him out of the castle, each one holding a twin.   
“She makes me think of my father” Lyarra sighs while they are walking together. “I think you are very tough with her, my Lord. She is your daughter, as much as Ned is your son”  
Rickard looks down, to raise it back when they pass by domestics.  
“I know. I did not want daughters. If Walt’s has warned me but... do you understand, my Lady?”  
Lyarra raises her eyes on him, and tries to uncover his mystery under his thick beard, his hair falling on his shoulders, and this look so hard, so grave. She shakes her head sadly:  
“I am sorry, I don’t. We have Brandon, and Eddard. Brandon is strong, by the Gods, how strong he is.... but we also need girls, my Lord, so the Stark blood run in the other Houses veins. Don’t you think?”  
He remains silent, while they leave the castle, and gets in the courtyard. Eddard looks all around him, until he notices Brandon, in front of the blacksmith. He squeals with joy and Rickard joins his eldest son, leaning a hand on his shoulder.   
Brandon looks fascinated by the movements of the blacksmith, the blade plunged in the water after having been shoved in the ashes, and the hammer that falls on the blade, to form it, to shape it. The young toddler, not much older than Ned, but already very tall, turns to his father and smiles, before staring again at the forge.   
“What a shame you cannot become a blacksmith” Rickard laughs loud, making also the blacksmith laugh.   
Brandon frowns:  
“Why not?”  
“You are the future lord of Winterfell. You will use your sword to fight, but you will not make them” Rickard explains, and Brandon pouts, looking suddenly alike his father. Lyarra joins them with Serena, and all the domestics smile at them. It is time to see a young girl in Winterfell. Rickard is an only child, the last young lady they have had here was the sister of Lord Ewyle Stark, Rickard’s father. Lyarra looks at her husband, his hand leaning on his oldest child’s shoulder: she is born a woman, she can understand Rickard’s reluctance, but, her parents have had only girls, and she knows what can appear like a handicap can also turns out to be a great asset. Her marriage is a success, her sister’s is too, and she is sure that Serena will be just like them, probably with a Stark’s bannermen. She looks away from her boys, to observe her little girl. It is weird to feel such different things whereas you have a son or a daughter, but Lyarra guesses she is not the only one to feel this. She remembers how relieved and proud she has been, when Brandon has been born. A male firstborn is always better for the father. She has been happy for Ned, because she knows the North is not easy for such young children, and that losing the eldest is always a risk. But Serena has been a real good surprise. Lyarra would hardly stand having only sons: a woman has more things to pass on daughters. And Serena looks like her, a lot: she has her dark hair, and her grey eyes, but slightly different than Brandon’s. Brandon has rain grey eyes. Serena’s ones are more like steel grey, sword grey. She will surely be a great beauty, when she grows up. She is also ahead of Ned, despite what Rickard says. She has smiled first, she has sat down first, and she is the one who, a few moments before, has made her first steps. Soon, she will need boots, that Lyarra will buy at the boot maker. She smiles at her daughter, before feeling Rickard’s look upon them.   
“We should get back in” he says pointing at the sky, loading with threatening dark clouds.   
Lyarra nods, and walks quickly back to the comfort and the heat of the castle. They get in the dungeon where their rooms are: the atmosphere here is sweet and warm, and the fires burning are more for decoration than for heat. The walls are made from huge blocks of stone piled up on each other, so that no draught can get through. In a wrong way, Southern people think the Lords of Winterfell die with cold in their castle, while it is indeed warmer than in any other fortress, except maybe in Sunspear. They have barely stepped in that rain starts pouring, hard and heavy, hitting the window panes as little stones that would be thrown on. The children do not seem afraid. They sit on the carpet, the boys with articulated knights. Serena takes a story book and gets on her mother’s knees, huddling against her. Rickard smiles slightly and, after he has kissed his wife, leaves the room to lock himself up in his office, to answer the numerous letters that await him, and to the different sollicitations he receives.   
After only a few minutes, Serena falls asleep against her mother, and Brandon and Ned use their knights for a joust. Lyarra smiles tenderly watching them, and cheers gently for one and the other.   
Here life passes in Winterfell, sweet and calm as a steam.


	3. Snow covered

Winterfell, 265 AC

Snow has fallen heavily the night before, and the Starks children wake up at dawn, way before their parents. Brandon gets dressed the best he can, from all of his 3 years of age, without waking the domestics up. On tiptoes, he leaves his bedroom, joining his siblings’ one silently. The twins are asleep in the same bed, as usual: at the same time symbiotic and always competing against each other, their relationship appears strange to a lot of people, including their parents. The young boy frowns as he discovers them this way, and walks to the bed, shaking Ned’s shoulder.  
“Wake up” he whispers. “Ned! Wake up!”  
The little brother slowly opens his eyes and groans looking at Brandon:  
“Too early...”  
He turns back to his sister, but Brandon wakes her up in turn.  
“There is snow, come!” He insists.  
Serena sits up as brutally as if someone had pulled her out of bed and jumps on the cold slabs of the room. Brandon laughs and helps her dressing up. They leave running to the courtyard of the castle. The ground is white with snow, and the roofs are not grey anymore, but immaculately white. In the stables, the horses blow smoke, and the castle is totally silent, as if it was frozen in the frost. Serena cries out with joy, and bends over the snow to form a bowl in her hands, before throwing it towards Brandon. Her brother yells when the snow hits the back of his neck, and bombs his little sister with snow. Serena quickly gives in with her brother’s strength, already impressive despite his young age, and bursts out laughing every time a snowball hits her.   
Ned appears from under the porch, and watches them for a moment before rushing on Brandon yelling. He tries to make him fall in the snow, but Brandon is way too strong, not even flinching, and laughs looking down at his little brother.  
“Serena, help me!” Ned shouts and his sister stands up quickly to rescue him. Ned grabs the right leg, Serena the left one, and they knock him down, falling in the snow in turn, all laughs.  
Lady Stark is woken up by the laughs that ring out in the courtyard of Winterfell, more used to hear swords noises. She sits up in her bed, glances at Rickard, still asleep at her side, and grabs her coat, wraps it around her shoulders and leaves the bedroom on tiptoes. She passes by the tower, until the culvert, and leans her forearms on the wooden railing, a smile roving on her lips as she admires her young children, playing in the snow like wolf cubs excited by cold. She slightly shivers watching them: her children are Northerners, she cannot deny it. Rickard and her are cousins, but she knows he has other plans for their children. Her look leans on the twins: Brandon will be the Lord of Winterfell, but Ned, who will he marry? Certainly not the daughter of a Northern house. He will be send away to be fostered by a great Lord and, when he’ll come back, Lyarra will not recognise him anymore. As for Serena, her fate is decided, it is certain: she will marry a Southern Lord and will be teared off her mother as soon as she will bleed for the first time. Lyarra would like to enjoy her children’s youth, but she knows which fate is the one of the nobles. She sighs slightly. Maybe they will be happy, after all. Her hand wanders on her belly as a violent belly pang makes her shiver again: she would love, so much, giving Rickard other children, other sons, but her body refuses her this desire. There is not enough: the children of the North have a dire wolf as an emblem, and it is not out of the blue. The Stark families are like packs, and the bigger the pack is, the better: numbers are protective.   
”Mother is here!” Brandon shouts suddenly, as he tries to wriggle away from the twins embrace and Eddard throws a snowball at his mother’s face. She cries with surprise and picks up snow on the railing to throw back when Eddard, who has already prepared another snowball, freezes suddenly, and lets the snow falling back on the ground. All smiles, Lyarra does not understand, and turns around: Rickard has joined her, his fur coat on his shoulders, looking stern and serious, as usual. The laughs stop, and Ned shakes with fear, sure that his father has seen him throwing snow on his mother. Lyarra’s smile vanished, but she ends up smirking. Rickard opens the mouth to reprimand his second son, when his eyes widen with pain and surprise. He turns his face to his wife, who bursts out laughing looking at him, and he spits snow out of his mouth. Rickard grabs her arm, a big handful of snow and slides it in her back, under her dress. She laughs despite the freezing feeling, and the children look at each other, sigh with relief and get back to fighting.   
It is a strange show that the domestics discover when they start their day, but everyone ends up calming down, and they get back inside. Playing with his children is one thing, showing ‘weakness’ in front of the servants is another one. Brandon, Ned and Serena, freezing, are brought in the bathrooms to get into a warm bath. The bath stops when they start splashing each other, and the handmaids dress them up warmly. Soon enough, their education will split them apart: Ned and Brandon will learn how to sword fight, and Serena will learn about sewing and crochet. Lyarra will spend long evenings brushing her daughter’s dark hair, when boys will compare the size and strength of their muscles. Maybe they will gather together for horse strolls, but they will not have a lot of time: soon, the boys will leave to be fostered, and Serena will find herself alone, unless a brother or a sister is born. But, for now, they remain children who, once they will have swallowed their breakfast, will go play in the snow again.


	4. The littlest

Winterfell, 266 AC

The sun is already high in the sky when Lady Lyarra opens her eyes. The white sheets, still showing the trace of her husband’s body, are already cold and she slightly groans, disappointed. Her role is to be the first up, whatever the day, but tiredness has overwhelmed her a few weeks ago, and she feels like she could sleep all day long without ever feeling fine. She resolves to stand up, ringing a bell so her handmaid dresses her up. She quickly shows up, and puts Lyarra’s dress on her, glancing at her in a way that irritates the lady of Winterfell.  
“Well, what do you have?” She asks dryly.  
She is not used to it, but tiredness turns her moody, and she knows she has to take care of a lot of things all day long. Her handmaid looks down and reddens:  
“Nothing, my Lady”  
Lyarra sighs as she ties her dress up. She winces slightly and places a hand on her chest:  
“It is too tight” she spats.  
“But I tied it just as usual” the handmaid protests.  
“I tell you it is too tight!!” Lyarra shouts, before turning to face her. “What is going on, tell me!” She orders. “I am your mistress and I can feel you are hiding something from me. Come on, speak up!”  
The handmaid startles and plays with her hands, looking down.  
“I think.... I think you are with child” she whispers, but Lyarra clearly hears what she says. She looks at the dress, then at her chest, touches it slightly, and tries to remember last time she has bled. Silently, she turns around again and glances at her handmaid:  
“Untie my dress. I’m suffocating”  
The woman obeys, and Lyarra’s face lightens up with a huge grin.  
Her handmaid has just left when she looks for Rickard: she finds him on the culvert, watching Brandon training sword fighting. He does not notice she is here first, and she smiles looking at his proud face, even tho the noise of the swords make her shiver with horror more than with pride. Men should draw swords only if necessary, but Brandon, him, draws them whenever he can. Lyarra is really scared this passion would head him for a fall.  
“Awake at least?” Rickard’s voice make her look at him. She turns to him with a smile:  
“I eventually know why I was so tired these days...”  
Rickard stands back straight and walks to her, a worried light in his look:  
“Are you sick?”  
“No, be reassured...” she laughs and takes his hand, places it on her belly. “We are having another child” she announces with a soft smile. Rickard smiles back at her, and embraces her lengthily.  
“Have you seen Walys?” He asks.  
Lyarra shakes her head:  
“No, but one of my handmaids has told me my breasts have swollen, and I have not bled for two months, at least. I must say I had lost hope, we have been trying for so long...”  
“Now, this baby is here” Rickard smiles and takes his wife’s hand, squeezes it tightly. “When will you tell the children?” He asks.  
“Not yet. In a few weeks, when my bump will show better” she replies leaning a hand on it. It seems strange to her that she did not notice anything, while she has already lived two pregnancies. But she is happy, more than ever, relieved to know her body can still bring a baby into the world.  
“I sent a message to Casterly Rock” Rickard smiles.  
Lyarra nods: a few days ago, came a message: Joanna Lannister has given birth to twins, too. Starks and Lannisters have never been friends, or even allied, but Rickard has only felt sympathy for Tywin and Joanna, knowing how much happiness the birth of two little beings represent. Lord Tywin is the Hand of the king, and has been waiting for an heir for a few years already. Lord Rickard, him, look on the birth of these twins, a boy and a girl, just like Ned and Serena, with a favourable eye. The Starks may not be as powerful and as wealthy as the Lannisters, but they have a good reputation in Westeros, and Rickard feels it’s the moment to stop alliances with bannermen such as the Karstarks, or Lockes. Ned cannot Marty the little twin of Lord Tywin, the Hand Of the King would refuse to see his daughter leave the comforting sun of the Westerlands to bury herself in the North’s cold. However, Serena would be perfect for the boy, despite she is three years older. They would have sons and daughters, and the Stark’s blood would be mixed to the greatest family in Westeros. For Brandon, he thinks watching his son training again, it will also be a Southern girl, but closer. He has already negotiated his departure to Barrowtown, to be fostered by Lord Dustin, one of the most faithful houses of the Starks. Brandon will be a great Lord, he thinks. He is strong, taller than most Starks, a true alpha male in his pack. Ned is sweeter, more shy, and Serena.... well, Serena is a girl. She is already interested in crochet and sewing, and will become a respectable lady. The wolf blood, this violence and savagery that sometimes haunt some Starks, does not seem to run in her blood, nor in Ned’s. It is dripping, tho, in Brandon’s. Rickard secretly hopes a marriage with a sweet and docile wife will cool his son down, as well as a peaceful and prosperous life.  
But, for now, life is pleasant: his children are healthy, his wife is going to give him another son, he hopes, and times are calm and quiet. The only vow he can make is to see those times last. 


	5. Unloved

Winterfell, 267 AC

Serena presses her hands on her ears, swaying back and forth frantically. Huddled up against Ned, fear settling in more and more with each yell, she does not know how to calm herself down. The children are altogether in the room where they play, but the wooden toys have been abandoned on the grey slabs for a few hours now. Ned wraps an arm around his little sister, but looks just as scared as he glances at Brandon. The eldest smiles slightly, trying to be brave, but the noise makes his blood run cold. The yells go on, still more powerful and scarier, and Serena ends up bursting into tears:  
“It is killing Mother!” she cries her heart out.   
“No, come in....” Brandon gets closer from her. She looks up at her brother with tearful eyes, and startled when the cries stop, to be replaced by another voice ringing out, way more shrill and piercing, that shows great suffering.   
None of them dare say anything for a few minutes that seem endless to them. Suddenly, the noise of heels clacking on the slobs makes them turn to the door in the same move. They seem to hold their breath, while they stare at the door, scared and impatient to know who will open. The handle and the door creak when it opens, and Serena hides behind Ned: it is simply their father, who looks tired, but displays a really radiant smile.   
“Children, you have a new little sister” he announces.  
Brandon jumps with joy, and Ned smiles, but Serena remains hidden;  
“Father, can we see her?!” Brandon asks excited.   
“Of course, come with me. As for you” he points his finger at Serena, “smile. Your mother does not want to see you sad today”  
Serena hardly holds back her tears, and follows her brother looking down. Their father leads them through Winterfell’s corridors, to the bedroom he shared with Lyarra. When he opens the door, the smell, a mix of blood and sweat, turns Serena’s stomach over. But she remains silent, and tries not to throw up at their father’s feet. Their mother is here, lied in her bed, her features are drawn, dark circles under her eyes, but a true happiness makes them shine. Serena cannot help looking at the bloody towels handmaids place in a bucked hastily. Lyarra holds her hand at her daughter, inviting her to join her. Serena obeys, shyly, sitting down by her mother’s side. She does not pay attention to the little bundle, wrapped in white swaddling clothes and who wriggles in her mother’s arms:  
“Why have you yelled so loud?” She asks, still terrified by the shouts that ring out in her head. Lyarra glances at Rickard and whispers:  
“Well, it is painful to give birth, sweet child. You will understand when you’ll deliver your first born... do you want to hold your little sister?”  
Serena shakes her head frenetically and Brandon gets closer:  
“I want to!”  
He almost sits on Serena, who loves away to give him room. Now, her eyes stare at the newborn: much dark hair cover her skull, and her eyes, although half closed, have already the Stark’s colour. Her lips part to let her tongue out and Lyarra, understanding, Bates her breast to feed her child. Starks have always breastfed. Wet nurses are Southern luxury. Brandon looks away immediately, while Serena, fascinated, stares at the mouth of the baby closing on her mother’s breast, closing her eyes and suckling greedily. The most natural gesture in the world, the only one acquired right from birth.   
“What is her name?” Serena asks.   
“Lyanna” her mother smiles.  
Serena cannot help wincing: almost like her mother. It sounds weird to her, but who is she to decide?  
“It’s pretty” she just says, kissing her mother’s cheek, and standing up, letting Ned sit in her place. She crawls to lie at her mother’s side, and she buries her face in her neck, trying to steal her smell, as to establish her territory, and make the new one understand Lyarra has been Serena’s mother before being hers. Her grey eyes meet her sister’s, and the two children stare at each other for a long time before the youngest ends up falling asleep, her mouth still closed around their mother’s breast. Lyarra braces Serena, as to assure her of her love, and she gives a tender look to her man and her boys. Two sons, two daughters, she feels blessed by the gods now. After a long moment, Rickard leans his hands on the boys shoulders:  
“Come, you should let your mother rest now” he nods, letting them kiss her before leading them out of the room. Against Lyanna, Serena has closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep, but opens them again as soon as they are alone. Lyarra smiles down at her, knowing she has faked her sleep.   
“Will you always love me, Mother?” The little girl asks, already feeling her eyes watering.  
“Of course I will... you will always remain my first little girl, Serena” Lyarra pulls her close and swallows hard as she feels the little body shattered with sobs. Lyarra feels that, despite all the displays of affection, this little girl will never feel loved, never as much as her brothers. Although, Lyarra loves this child, with all her heart. Serena does not know how many times Lyarra has cried with emotion thinking about her, cried with fear thinking about terrible things that could happen to her, cried with pride when she has made her first steps. She cannot count how many times she has argued with her Lord and husband so he shows more love towards Serena, and the answer, cold and scathing, that has hurt her more than if he had slapped her:   
“I feel no affection towards this child” he has answered without a feeling. Lyarra’s has made him promise to never say those words in front of Brandon or Ned. She has never forgiven, but has tried to get them closer. Her efforts have been vain. And now, while her daughter’s tears wet her tunic, she cannot help her own tears from rolling down her face, this time again about Serena, but not with pride, or joy, or fear. Just out of sadness, a deep sadness and injustice to see this child, so sweet, nice and smart, being denied what she needs the most in this world: the love of her father.


	6. Forsaken

Winterfell, 268 AC

Serena has not stepped in this room for a year. While Maester Walys opens the door, the awful blood smell overwhelms her again, giving her an awful metallic taste. But, this time, Serena is not sick. This time, tears run down again, but with sadness, and not fright.   
When Walys has come to tell them about the birth of their little brother, Benjen, she has immediately known something was wrong: the maester’s smile was sad, and the castle, silent. Then he had taken Brandon, then Ned, and the children had come back pale and grave.   
Walys had slipped his hand in Serena’s, and had dragged her with him. In the room, Serena hugs her doll tight against her, as if this simple gesture would comfort her. Lyarra, breathing hard, turns to her. Her paleness shocks her daughter, who walks to her nevertheless, trying to be brave. She eyes her father, sit on the bed, holding her mother’s hand. He does not look back at her, looking down, but his shoulders are shaking, and weak whimpers escape his lips. Serena cannot help staring at him as if she seeing him for the very first time: is he crying? She wonders. No, it’s impossible. Almighty as he is, how could he cry? Her mother’s voice, weak, makes her look back at her:  
“Serena... listen to me...”  
Her lower lip already starts shaking:  
“No, no.... do not cry.... you have a little brother....”  
Serena looks down and, just like her father, grabs her mother’s hand and squeezes it in her little fingers.   
“I am so, so happy to have known you, my daughter...” Lyarra tenderly smiles, despite pain and exhaustion. “I want you to know I will always be in your heart. And I will always look after you... I want....” she breathes deeply. “I want you to keep being good and nice towards everyone around you... don’t let this change you, Alright?”  
The room remains silent for a moment, and Serena lets a loud sob slip:  
“Is it because of me, mother?”  
“No... no.... come here” Lyarra opens her arms and Serena rushes there, as a refuge. She can see her father looking at her, despite her eyes blurred by tears. How will she survive without her mother, the only person taking her side? Ned loves Serena, of course, but it’s Brandon he admires, and that he tries to imitate in every way.   
It cannot end this way, Walys is a good maester, he will save her, he will heal her. Lyarra’s arms embrace her and Serena cries and cries again, cannot stop crying. She weeps her death, her mother’s death, her childhood’s death, her innocence’s death. And, among her sobs, other cries ring out. She sits up and eventually looks at her baby brother, Benjen. She turns to her mother, unfathomably:  
“The baby is hungry, mother”  
Lyarra does not answer. Serena does not understand. She moves a bit and Lyarra’s arms fall back on the sheets, limp as rag dolls. Her eyes stare at the ceiling of the room, but no light can be seen anymore. This vision frightens the little girl who crawls back to the edge of the bed and yells, screams at the top of her voice.   
Her father’s voice thunders in the room, but Serena does not understand what he says. He simply looks daggers at her and she places her arms in front of her face in a protective way, now sure her father is going to hit her. Instead, arms wrap around her, and drag her out of the room. Serena struggles, kicking legs and fists, refusing to leave her mother, calling at her, begging her to wake up and to protect her. Her father’s voice covers the yells of the little girl:  
“Shut her up! By all the Gods, shut her up!”  
There is no anger in his voice, only distraught. The arms hug Serena tighter, and, soon, the door of the room close back. Walys, who has caught his young mistress, sits down on the corridor, and tries to appease the sobs and the wild howls that rush out of the tiny mouth. Those cries that break his heart, but that he must calm down. He rocks Serena, strokes her black hair, wipes her tears with a tissue. He feels the little body totally relaxing against him, and notices two pairs of boots in front of his eyes. He looks up and sees Brandon and Ned, hand in hand, staring at the maester.   
“Is mother dead?” Brandon asks with a strangely calm voice. Walys simply nods:  
“She is with the Gods now”  
Brandon looks at him and runs away. Ned, without a word, takes his sister in his arms and walks after his elder brother. Serena falls asleep in her twin’s arms, exhausted. She is heavy, Ned thinks. But I am strong. I must be, now.   
He climbs down the stairs, and walks through the courtyard, where he sees Brandon, his wooden sword in his hand, smashing it against the walls of the castle, again and again, faster and faster, more and more violently. The sword quickly breaks against the stones, and Brandon kneels in the snow, yells his mother’s name, just like Serena has done. Ned closes his eyes, feeling a tear falling down on his cheek to almost immediately freeze with cold on his round cheeks. He gets close to Brnadon, carefully, fearing his brother’s reaction, and places his hand on his shoulder, squeezing it hard. Brandon hugs his legs, sobbing against him. His hand moving on his brother’s head, Ned tries too, he tries to cry but he can’t. His mother is dead. This sole thought looks so unreal to him. How could it be? His mother is young, healthy. The baby does not look like a monster, it cannot be his fault. Ned does not understand. One day, he has had a strong fever. He could not even move. Serena and his mother could not resolve themselves to leave his bedside. Walys has made him drink strange phials, and he has healed. Why can’t he do this for his mother? Suddenly, while he takes brother and sister back in the warmth of the castle, he thinks about Lyanna and Benjen. Poor little ones will never know their mother. They will only make memories with what Brandon, Ned and Serena will tell them. He starts hoping their father will never remarry, and will never replace their mother. He passes by domestics who give him sorry looks. Ned hates this: why would they feel sorry for them? The Starks will survive, as they have always done. Lord Stark will find a wet nurse for Benjen and Lyanna, and the eldest ones will never let them forget who their mother was. While he gets in the room where, a few hours ago, he was playing cheerfully with his brother and sister, he thinks the place is suddenly sad, empty, sinister. He lays a sleeping Serena on the bed, and lies by her side. Against all odds, Brandon stays with them and they all huddle against each other to hold in the tiny bed, just like wolf cubs would do to try to warm each other up during the long winter. Without even realising it, the boys fall asleep, exhausted by sorrow.


	7. Change

Winterfell, 269 AC

“Come on Ned! Think!” Walys’ voice, impatient, rings out in the study room of the Starks children.  
“I don’t know, Maester” the little boy whimpers.   
Brandon has left hunting with their father. In little time, he will leave to Barrowtown, as Lord Dustin’s fostered child. The twins had to stay in the castle, to study the different houses of Westeros. More precisely: Ned studies, and Serena learns to sew with Nan. The little girl raises her look upon her brother, who himself looks down embarrassed.  
“Concentrate, Serena”, Nan spats dryly. Serena nods and keeps sewing while Walys’ voice raises again:  
“The Eyrie. Lord, words, sigil”  
Ned closes his eyes a moment and hesitates:  
“Lord.... Jasper Arryn...” he glances at his maester who approves. “Words... as strong as honour...”  
The wooden stick the maester uses to point at different spots of the map violently smashes Ned’s desk, who startles.  
“As high as honour” Serena whispers.  
Ned, shaking like a leaf, stammers:  
“As high as honour”  
Walys frowns and starts walking around the room, towards Serena:  
“Sigil?”  
Concentrated on her sewing, Serena although whispers, while Ned remains silent:  
“A sky-blue falcon soaring against a white moon, on a sky-blue field”  
Ned repeats word for word, and discreetly smiles but a cry makes him turn around suddenly. Walys has grabbed Serena’s arm, and drags her to Ned.  
“Well, Eddard, you let your sister prompts you?” He asks despising, and Serena looks daggers at him, rubbing her bruised by his grasp.  
“Do you think I am stupid because I am a girl, Maester?” She says back with the same tone.  
Walys turns to her and raises his arm as if he wanted to hit her:  
“How dare you raise a finger on me?” She shouts. “My father will whip you for this outrage!”  
“Oh, do you think?” He derisively smiles. “You are the one getting whipped, if you keep thinking you are who you are not. Come on, smart ass” he grabs Serena and places her standing on the desk.  
“Let’s see what you truly know! House Lannister!” He hits the stick right in front of her feet. Serena holds back a smile: so easy. Staring at the wall in front of her, letting her voice ring out, she recites:  
“Lord: Lord Tywin Lannister. Words: Hear me roar. Sigil: a gold lion on a crimson field”  
“Seat  
“Casterly Roc” she firmly asserts.   
Walys looks at her, but thinks his proposition has been too easy.  
“Tyrells” he orders.  
“Lord: Lord Luther Tyrell. Words: growing strong. Sigil: a golden rose on a green field. Seat: Highgarden” Serena declaims obediently, turning the maester furious. Ned cannot help chuckling as he notices Walys’ face, and, immediately, the stick hits the child’s skull.  
“Are you not ashamed?” He taunts as a snake would do. “Your sister know Westeros’ houses better than you! Maybe you should use her needles in her place!”  
“She simply memorises things better than me” Ned protests but Serena knows he is lying. Ned is not interested into this, that’s all. He prefers fighting with Brandon rather than learning about differences and similarities between the kingdom’s houses.  
“Silence!” Walys shouts. “You, Greyjoys!” He points at Serena. She stares at his eyes as she recites again:  
“Lord: Lord Quellon Greyjoy. Words: we do not sow. Sigil: a golden kraken on a black field. Seat: Pyke, on the Iron Islands.”  
Walys becomes more and more angry, and orders her to give him more houses, less and less big. But Westeros does not have that much noble houses, and soon, while Serena declaims the characteristics of House Clegane, created thanks to Tytos Lannister, Walys stares silently at her, and orders her to go back to Nan when she is done. Ned watches her leave, and discreetly winks at her, Serena winking back at him.   
When Brandon and Rickard come back from hunting with a few wild boars, Walys immediately takes the Lord of Winterfell aside. While Brandon tells Ned and Serena about the hunt, and that Lyanna and Benjen play quietly, Rickard’s eldest daughter perfectly knows the chat is about her.   
When Rickard joins them for dinner, she is properly terrified about the punishment he thinks about for her. After the traditional prayer to the Ancient Gods, the domestics bring food in and Serena silently eats, thinking, this way, her father will maybe forget about this afternoon’s incident with Walys. While he drinks up a glass of beer, he turns to his children, Brandon, Ned and Serena, the youngest ones already in bed.   
“I have decided to welcome here a young boy, just like Lord Dustin will soon welcome Brandon, and Lord Arryn, Ned.”  
Serena feels her blood freezing in her veins. While she had taken a piece of wild boar with her fork, she places it back in her plate:  
“N-Ned?” She stammers.  
She turns to her brother, to her twin, who has blemished too. He was obviously unaware of his father’s plan. Under the table, he grabs his sister’s hand and squeezes it so hard she feels he’s gonna break all her bones. Her grey eyes bead with tears.   
“Not Ned, Father, please” she sobs. “Don’t tear is apart”  
Rickard barely looks at her:  
“Ned needs to toughen, and it will not happen if he stays by your side. Moreover, another boy will be with him, same age as Brandon. Robert Baratheon, the heir of Storm’s End. I have accepted to welcome and to foster his younger brother, Stannis. Stop crying, Serena. Your relationship will only be stronger when you will reunite.”  
Serena discreetly wipes her eyes and, with a heavy heart, eats again. Ned, although, barely touches his food. He turns to Rickard in turn:  
“I do not want to leave. Winterfell is my home.”  
“And it will always be, my boy” Rickard says after he has swallowed a huge piece of meat. He wipes his mouth and says again:  
“I want my boys to have the best education possible. You need to see other places, other cultures. It will bring you a lot.”  
Brandon nods and tenderly smiles at his brother. Ned does not, and stares at his father:  
“What if I refuse?”  
Rickard does not even looks up:  
“You will be whipped, and sent there nevertheless. I am not used to such impudence, especially coming from you.”  
The accusing look he gives Serena can be noticed by everyone, but the little girl innocently eats. Still holding Ned’s hand, she presses it slightly and Ned nods:  
“Very well, Father. When shall I leave?”  
“The year after Brandon has left. See, I warn you in advance” he smirks.  
“What about this Stannis? When will he arrive?” Brandon asks in turn.   
“Just after your departure” Rickard smiles slightly.  
Brandon smiles again and nods, before eating up. He is as attached at Winterfell as Ned, but his spirit way more adventurous puts up better with a departure to discover the world. He looks at his brother and sister a moment: it is true relationships between twins are fusional, but, they will end up being torn apart. Whether it is because of fostering or wedding of each of them, the twins will end up apart. They could not live their whole lives together. Of course, Rickard’s decision may seem cruel, but Brandon knows that, despite all appearances, his children’s future is a very important matter to him. He is lucky enough to have five healthy children, he is lucky to be the Lord of the greatest Northern house, to be able to give his children a golden future. No one doubts he is already thinking about future alliances through marriage, but Lord Dustin is not noble enough, and everyone knows Rickard’s ambitions drift him south. Brandon, lost in thoughts, wonders if his father has already found a fiancée for him, or if he has someone in mind. The Lannisters have a daughter, so do the Tullys, or the Martells or even the Tyrells. The choice is various for Lord Rickard and few of these houses could say ‘no’ to the Lord of Winterfell. Rickard’s heir is brought back by domestics clearing the table and giving them their desserts. Brandon eats fast, and leaves the table as soon as Rickard orders him to. Ned and Serena imitate him but Rickard, eating up a piece of bread, glances at his eldest daughter:  
“You, stay”  
Ned gives them a scared look, but quickly follows Brandon to their rooms. Serena remains alone with Rickard, who drinks beer, slowly, as to makes her fear last. Her father is handsome, she realises it now. Since her mother’s death, no woman has come into his life, not even a lover, or so she believes. His black beard is spotted with grey hair, his hair, reaching his shoulders, Have although remained black. His grey eyes stare at his daughter, severely, as usual. A few drops of beer drip on his beard, drops he wipe with a napkin before placing his hands on each side of his plate. Serena’s hands, crossed behind her back, shake with apprehension.  
“Walys has told me you have been very insolent today” he accuses.  
What an awful liar, she thinks, but indignation can be read on her face. Rickard immediately notices:  
“Is it true?”  
Serena does not know what to answer. She has simply helped her brother.  
“Ned could not give the words of a house. I just wanted to help him, and to prove I could be as good as him. But, I also sew for you, Father”  
She hopes it will soften him up, but he does not even smile:  
“Walys is a faithful and good councillor. You owe him respect. I know he is tough with you all, but it is needed. You are nobles, not peasants children. You have to know about good manners, and to understand how to talk to the person facing you. One day, you will also command a Maester. But, for now, you are just a child. In the future, unless he asks you a question, you will remain silent in front of him. Is it clear?”  
Serena nods quickly.  
“Go to bed now. It is late.”  
He holds his cheek at his daughter, waiting for a kiss. Serena walks to him, to this smell so strong, musc and fur mixed with leather and snow. She brushes his cheek with her lips and curt sets before climbing the stairs up to her bedroom. Ned and Brandon are here, waiting for her, and look almost disappointed that she has not been punished. With a deep sigh, the little girl lays on her bed, grabs her doll and holds it tight against her chest. The boys wish her a goodnight and leave the room, leaving her with her thoughts.


	8. The young stag

Winterfell, 270 AC

Thanks to a favorable combination of factors, Stannis Baratheon arrives in Winterfell the day before Brandon leaves for Barrowtown. Rickard places each of his elder children at his side, while Serena holds Lyanna in her arms. The little girl watches this stranger riding in the courtyard of the castle, alongside a middle aged man, who smiles nicely. Strangely, he looks like Lord Stark, But is way taller and more imposing than him. While he gets off his horse, followed by the young boy, he walks to Rickard with a firm step: his hair and beard are black, his chest and shoulders broad, and two shining blue eyes look like they are smiling just as his lips do.  
“Lord Stark” he bows in front of Rickard, who bows back.  
“Lord Baratheon” Rickard greets him before turning to his children. “Let me introduce you to Brandon, Eddard, Benjen, Serena and Lyanna.”  
The tall Lord stops in front of each of them, shaking the eldest ones hand solemnly, but stroking the cheeks of the Stark girls and of Benjen.  
“What a beautiful family, Lord Stark” he compliments.   
“Thank you, my Lord” Rickard sadly says.  
He thinks about Lyarra, who should be at his sides instead of resting in a sinister and cold tomb. Lord Steffon has still his wife, and hopes to expand the family. He turns to Stannis, in the back:  
“Come in, boy, don’t stay behind me. Greet Lord Stark and his family”  
The young boy, younger than Brandon but already as tall as him, bows in front of a Rickard and greets every Stark child. He looks a lot like his father but, when Steffon is cheerful and pleasant, Stannis is withdrawn and a grimace deform his mouth. Serena gives him a curious look, wondering if he suffers from a mysterious illness or if the thought of living with the Starks for the nine or ten next years disgusts him to the highest degree. While the lords get in the castle, the children gather around Stannis. Brandon weighs him up, not nastily, but curious to know the worth of this newcomer:  
“A fight, Stannis?” He proposes.  
Stannis has never really liked fighting, but nevertheless knows it is indispensable for a young noble to know how to sword-fight. Moreover, he does not want to vex his hosts right after his arrival. He agrees, and Brandon smiles, before fetching wooden swords. Serena remains with them to watch them fight and Brandon, all smiles, reaches for her:  
“Would you give me your favour, Lady Stark?”  
The little girl innocently smiles, and curtseys:  
“Of course, Lord Stark”  
Stannis watches her undo the bow holding her hair back, and they fall on her shoulders and her back as a waterfall of black ink. Brandon holds the sword at him while Serena wraps the band around her brother’s arm and sits by their duel, although not too close.   
While they start fighting, she cheers for Brandon, but her brother does not prevail as easily as with Ned, his usual adversary. Stannis thinks Brandon is very gifted, but cannot be compared to Robert, who has the strength of a bull. The fight eventually stops at nightfall, and no one could say who has won. Serena has stayed all along the fight, and sincerely congratulate the two fighters. 

Rickard leads Steffon though Winterfell’s corridors, until his office to be more intimate. He pours a glass of beer for his host:  
“Lord Baratheon, I must confess I have been surprised with your proposition of fostering Stannis here. I thought you would wait, and that your eldest Robert would have been the first one to be sent as a foster child”  
“I understand” Steffon nods, wetting his lips in the tankard Rickard has given to him, “but I do not worry about Robert. Stannis, however.....”  
“Is he sick?” Rickard inquiries.   
A slight smile lightens up Steffon’s face to immediately disappear:  
“He is sad. And there is nothing me or my wife could do to chase this sadness. I do not know where it comes from, but I thought other children would do him good. Robert is very hard with him” he sadly says.  
Antagonisme between his two sons have never could be explained. They were different, of course, but things were going too far, far above a simple fraternal rivalry. His two children were purely and simply hating each other. Robert was surpassing his brother physically, and Stannis had taken refuge in books to deepen even more this difference. At 7, he already has read half of Storm’s End’s library.  
Rickard shakes his head slowly:  
“Such a pity... love between brothers can move mountains. I was not lucky to know mine, he died when he was just an infant but I am happy to see my boys getting along well. They already drag Benjen in their games” he smiles softly.   
“What about your daughters? I am curious to know how you raise them”  
“Well, Lyanna looks like she will be a true tomboy. She adores her brothers, admires them beyond limits. She is quite passionate, she looks like Brandon in many ways”  
“And.... what’s Eddard’s twin’s name again?”  
“Serena” Rickard coldly says. “Serena is very smart. If only she has been born a man, what a Lord she would have made... but we do not get along well. Serena should have had a mother, her only maternal figure is Nan, one of our faithful handmaid. She is very attached to Ned, calm and laid back just like him. To be honest, I cannot wait to marry her and to see her gone. The northern life does not fit her. She is made for the South, for wearing pretty clothes, letting her hair shine under the sun, and eating less... rustic food. She also believes in all these stupid legends Nan tells her about, the direwolves, the Others, the giants from beyond the wall... She bears my name, but, deep inside, she is not a Stark. I don’t know what she is but I hope she will find it one day. She remains my daughter.”  
Steffon gives a puzzled look towards Rickard: he loves his children with the same strength and, if Robert looks like him the most, Stannis gets his sweetness and his melancholia, almost feminine, from his mother. But this unhappiness, he cannot explain it. While he listens to Rickard, he although understands what he means, and thinks the comparison with Stannis is striking. Maybe Stannis will comes out of his shell away from Storm’s End, or maybe he feels too alone there, while Robert has fun only when he fights and when he listens to the salacious jokes of the soldiers. Stannis is above this, without any doubt. And if he will probably never beat his brother hand to hand, his military intelligence is surprising for such a young boy. One day, Steffon has caught him talking with his maester, Cressen, of the way the Ninepenny Kings could have won their rebellion, despite being outnumbered. Cressen has never told Steffon, thinking the memory of this rebellion would be too painful for his master, who has lost his father during one of those battles. But Steffon has not blamed his son: soldiers win battles, but they need smart generals to guide them and to not send them to a massacre. The perspective that his sons may fight side by side one day turns his blood to ice and he quickly drinks a gulp of the Northern’s brown ale, before talking back about Rickard’s girls:  
“I am sure you will find a very good match for your daughter, Lord Stark. She seems obedient, and will be exquisite when she will grow up”  
Rickard nods approving:  
“I already have in mind a few suitors. But the North is wild, and vast, our links with the Southern houses are more fragile, because distance keeps us apart. I was thinking about maybe riding with you when you will leave back to Storm’s End, and then enquire to the Southern Lords about their interest in Serena.”  
Steffon smiles to him:  
“I would be delighted, Lord Stark. If I can give you an advice, you could have a drawing of your daughter to show the other Lords. Stannis could do it if no one in Winterfell cannot draw. He is pretty gifted, and I say in a totally objective way.”  
Rickard bursts out laughing:  
“So be it. Let’s join them now”  
Steffon drinks up, and stands up, following Rickard throughout the castle.   
A few hours later, taking the most of the last rays of sunshine, Stannis does his utmost to draw the most faithful portrait of his young hostess. Chewing on his cheek, concentrated on his task, he cannot help thinking this child is very pretty. She has slipped on a pale pink dress, emphasising his hypnotising grey eyes. Her handmaid has brushed her hair elegantly, tying them into a braid, although leaving some free locks falling on her shoulders. Her hair colour is just as unique as her eyes’ one: ebony, it also unveils blue luminous shine, that Stannis tries to faithfully transpose. She does not wear any jewellery, letting her fair skin violently contrasting with the darkness of her hair. When he is done, Stannis examines the portrait, looks up on his model, and finally holds the drawing at his father who glances at it before giving it to Rickard. He nods silently and slips it in a leather pouch to protect it during their long journey.   
Preparations go well and Brandon is more and more excited by his departure. Serena cannot hide her sadness to see her oldest brother leaving. She wishes she could have kept a united and happy family, but fate has decided otherwise. Brandon is thirsty for new horizons, just like she is, and she knows keeping him in Winterfell would be selfish and cruel.   
For his last night with his kin, Brandon lets them get in his bedroom and, together, the three eldest children share memories and laughs, enjoying the sweets the cooks have given them to ease the pain of the separation. In the room next to it, Stannis, his arms crossed under his head, listens, envious, to the young children. He wishes he would have this kind of last moments with Robert, but his brother has looked happy to see him leave, and has stayed to bid farewell just because their parents have insisted. He may find a brother here, or somewhere else, a blood brother more than a real one, but who will love him just as much as Stannis will do. Just like Brandon, Ned and Serena, he cannot find sleep that night, and his face is tired when he pays tribute to his father the following morning.   
While Lord Steffon, Lord Rickard, Brandon and a small escort leave the castle, Serena bursts out crying when they are alone. Stannis would like to cry too, but cannot make a fool of himself in front of them. Ill at ease watching Serena’s effusion, he looks at Ned, embracing her and stroking her back, whispering words only she seems to understand, then guiding her back in the castle’s warmth. While they come in, Ned turns to the young boy:  
“Come, Stannis.”  
Stannis smiles slightly, and silently follows them, happy, despite all, to not be left aside.


	9. Departure

Winterfell, 271 AC

His legs shaking, Ned checks one last time that his stuff is ready and that nothing is missing. Sighing deeply, he reaches for the window of the bedroom he shared with his sister and looks out. It has snowed a lot lately, and he cannot hold his sadness back when he thinks about everything he will miss from here, from home. His duty is to obey his father and he must confess he is eager to meet the other boy who is going to live with him at the Eyrie, as Lord Arryn’s fosterlings, and who is no one else but Stannis’ brother.   
“Ned?” A voice calls at him. It’s precisely Stannis who has knocked on the open door, but does not dare to step in. Ned smiles gently at him:  
“I am almost ready”  
When the words rush out his mouth, he suddenly realised what it means: no more strolls or rides with Stannis, no more games with Lyanna and Benjen, no more sharing with Serena. Just like Brandon before him, he will become a lone wolf, deprived from his pack. He cannot help having a bad feeling. Although he tries to smile: his father has promised to visit him often, and that himself could come back as soon as possible. Lord Rickard has come back from his Southern trop delighted, and Ned has been persuaded that he has found there what he has benne looking for. The young Ned sits on Serena’s bed and stares at her pillow: he suddenly grabs the slip and slides in his baggage. If his sister’s body cannot go with him, he will at least have her smell to comfort him.  
Stannis nods at the words of the one who has become his friend. He is sad to see him leave, meanwhile feeling anguish knowing he will meet Robert, so loveable, so cheerful, so outgoing. Everything he is not. He frowns slightly when he sees him taking the pillowslip of his sister, but he does not dare say anything. Twins relationship is special, everyone knows that. He looks at Ned and calmly states:  
“Your father awaits you.”  
Nés strokes Serena’s bed, brutally stands up, grabs his baggage, storming out of the room, as if he is scared to change his mind.   
In the castle’s courtyard, Serena feels like she could collapse any minute. Dread has invaded her since a few days already and, the closer she gets from the fateful moment, the more nauseous she feels. She keeps hoping, despite everything, that her father will change his mind, that he will let Ned live with her. But, deep inside, she knows it is hopeless. Her first tears run on her cheeks as she watches Ned walking out of the castle, looking down, not even trying to look contented. She can hear her father’s fists clenching with fury, as he notices his sons behaviour. Ned greets the domestics present for his departure, Nan, he kisses Lyanna and Benjen, shaking Stannis hand with a forced smile and stands in front of his father.  
“I am ready” he breathes out.  
Rickard nods and gets on his horse, holding Ned’s pony’s reins. He takes his baggage while Ned walks to his twin, his heart squeezed with fear. Their eyes meet, filled with tears and they collapse in each other’s arms, wrapping themselves around each other, as they used to do when they were sharing the same cradle as babies.   
Serena does not know how to tell him she needs him, that she does not know how she will even survive without hearing about him.   
“I will write to you, I promise” Ned whispers in her ear.   
“Ned, come on, we have to go” Rickard says impatient.   
Serena, unable to say or do whatsoever, watches Ned moving away from her and getting on his pony. Stannis cannot look away from them, and slowly gets closer from Serena, to simply support her. She looks rooted to the spot, watching Ned waving one last time before following their father. When they disappear behind the door, Serena suddenly starts shaking and seems to wake up again. Before Stannis knows it, she runs after her brother, as fast as her little legs allow her to. Stannis yells her name and follows her, but cannot catch her. She shouts her brother’s name, sobs it, moans it with begs. Ned hears her, and stops his pony, but his father slaps his croup, who gallops with a protesting neigh. Rickard rides by his side, not giving a single look to his daughter who appears behind them, bravely running even though she will never join them. Her yells hurt Ned’s heart, and, soon, tears also run on his cheeks. He ends up turning his head towards her, only once, when his sister is just a red spot far from him, red like her dress, like her cheeks after her mad dash, and he shouts as loud as he can:  
“I love you Serena!!”  
When those words reach for the little girl like a distant echo, her legs give her up and she falls heavily on the kingsroad, letting her sobs overwhelming her. After a  
moment, she feels arms around her, making her stand up and she lifts up her tearful face on Stannis. He really feels sorry for her and awkwardly embraces her, not knowing how to show her his support in this trial. She slightly cries when he holds her close and, as he looks at her, he realises that her knees, her hands and her face have been graded after her fall.   
“I am really sorry Serena.... but we have to go back now....” he whispers slipping his arm under hers. But the little one has not the strength to walk, and he decides to carry her inside the castle. Walys reprimand her behaviour, and heals her. Serena seems spaced out, whispering Ned’s name staring at an invisible spot on the wall. She almost frightens Stannis, and he comes to admire such devotion and love between siblings. He stays with her, all the time, falling asleep on a chair by her bed, solacing her when she wakes up from a nightmare screaming, caring for her until he feels too tired.   
Serena is not the same anymore after this:   
she seems she has vanished, as if her soul has disappeared. She does everything mechanically, with no pleasure or passion. When a Rickard comes back from the Eyrie, he also blames her for her behaviour the day Eddard left. Basically, the only moments when she looks happy are the ones when she receives a letter from Ned. So Stannis, who feels a lot for her, supports her the best he can.   
While weeks go by, life goes on in Winterfell. Today, Stannis and Serena ride ponies, under Rickard’s severe look. If the young Baratheon stands straight, his eyes staring the horizon, with an uncommon grace for a boy, Serena, however, looks in agony while her pony trots fast. Every shake makes her bump on her saddle, despite all of her efforts to imitate Stannis. She already bites her lower lip as she feels her inner thighs slowly tearing and, suddenly, the whip the master uses hits her hands skin. Chapped by cold, the skin immediately tears and Serena yelps with pain as her blood, warm and red, floods in her hands and reins. She closes his eyes a moment and imagines she is somewhere else, far from this father who hates her, far from this cold which bites her skin. Stannis cannot looking daggers to the master who, he knows it, has just followed Rickard’s orders. The whip hits her again, this time on her back and Serena starts crying.   
“Silence and stand straight!” Rickard shouts.  
What has she done so he hates her so, Stannis wonders. He slows his pony down to ride by the little girl and tries to help her adjusting her position. The lesson comes to an end and Serena, humiliated, runs away towards the godswood. Stannis finds her here, a wooden stick in her hand, hitting the weirwood endlessly, with all her rage, her anger, her rancour.   
“Serena!” He intervenes. “You cannot do this, they are your Gods!!” He says, outraged.   
“I hate them!!!!” She yells. “Then all! This wood, this castle, this ridiculous tree!” She hits it so hard she breaks the stick in two. She falls on her knees breathless and coldly says:  
“I hate my father, and Lyanna, and Benjen”   
Stannis slowly shakes her head:  
“They’re your family, you cannot hate them”  
“And why not?” Serena says defiantly.  
“Because....” he starts, before realising no one can compel themselves to love their family. Robert, for example, doesn’t love him, he is sure of this. He sighs slightly:  
“Your father is a tough man, I grant it, but Lyanna and Benjen, they are just babies.... they don’t have a mother anymore, they will need you in the future. You will be a mother to them more than a sister. They are innocent. You have a duty towards them, even tho, I know, it can seem insurmontable”   
“And how would you know? No one is dependent from you! You have your mother, your father and you’re the last one of the family. Don’t talk about what you don’t know” Serena retorts nastily.   
Stannis looks at her, a bit sad of how cold she is towards him, but nevertheless understanding. Robert reacts the same when he’s angry.  
“I am more responsible than Robert. He may be the eldest, having rights on me but, believe me, sometimes I feel way older and more mature than him...”   
Serena remains silent, leaning against the holy tree of her family. She dreams of leaving, of a handsome prince freeing her from the burden of living in Winterfell. Sometimes, as she listen to the crazy stories of Nan, she even envies the wildlings, this free people who live behind the Wall, and whose women are as brave as men, or so she heard. When she looks at herself, she only sees weakness and disappointment. She sees what she sees in her father’s eyes. She suddenly whispers:  
“Please, leave. I wanna be alone.”  
Without even looking at her friend, she hears him leaving the weirwood, his boots crushing the dead leaves and the green grass. She closes her eyes a moment, and lies in the grass, staring at the sky. She hates it too. This sky, grey, heavy. This Northern sky. She dreams of the blue sky from the South, this sky that gives its such beautiful colour to the sea, then the Northern rivers look as grey and cold as the sky above them.   
“Please” she silently prays. “Please take me away from here... save me”  
She even waits for an answer as, even though her Gods have endured her wrath, she believes in them. Unfortunately, no sign appears and, as night falls, she walks back in the castle with the heaviest heart.


	10. The ride

Winterfell, 272 AC

“Lyanna, wait!”  
It is useless. Serena gets in her horse, and Lyanna rides by her side as a tornado would, her own pony at full gallop. Serena cries with fear, scared to see her sister fall and hurt herself, or worst. She kicks her pony, but cannot catch her up. On the opposite, Lyanna looks over her shoulder and, as soon as Serena gets closer, she violently spurs her pony. Serena cannot help rolling her eyes, and just follows her. She admires her sister’s skill: Lyanna May only be five, but she is a way better rider than many people in the castle. Way better than Serena, who prefers spending hours brushing horses down, cuddling them, rather than riding them. She meets Lyanna laying on the grass, under a tree.   
“You are not very careful, my Ladies” Rodrick Cassel, who accompanies them, tells them while Serena joins her sister and sits down by her side, out of breath.   
“It’s not my fault!” Serena protests.   
“You are the eldest, my Lady. Lady Lyanna, you must obey your sister”  
Lyanna distractedly nods and stands back up:  
“May I have your sword, Ser Rodrick?”  
Ser Rodrick gives her an outraged look:  
“Certainly not, my Lady. You could hurt yourself.”  
Lyanna makes puppy eyes at him:  
“I just want to have a look. I love swords”   
Rodrick glances at Serena, who has taken a book out of her saddle and starts reading, her free hand playing with the leaves of grass by her side.  
“Lady Serena, may I allow her?” He asks.   
“Feel free, Ser Rodrick. Feel free” Serena waves her hand annoyed, totally concentrated on her book.  
Rodrick sighs slightly and unsheathes his sword slowly, before digging the blade in the humid ground. Lyanna walks to it and cannot look away from the blade and the pommel, elegantly sculpted.   
“It’s beautiful” she whispers.  
Since Brandon and Ned have left, it’s Stannis she watches training with Ser Rodrick. She stares at him, learning his movements by heart, and, when she is alone, she imitates him, most often with a piece of wood, but sometimes without anything, just holding the pommel of an imaginary sword. She imagines herself duelling against Stannis, or against Ned when he will come visit them from the Eyrie. But nothing works: her father refuses categorically, pleading a girl cannot hold a sword, this privilege being for men only, she sighs too as she looks st Ser Rodrick. She would have loved so much to be born as a male, to do whatever she wants, fighting, riding horses, ruling a castle, making wars and winning battles. She knows what her fate is: getting married, having children who will not even bear her name.   
Her look lays now upon her sister Serena, so beautiful, but so cold, so unhappy. They look like each others, finally, both of them not feeling in their places here. She sits by her side:  
“What are you reading, Serena?”  
“A book you would not like. A fairytale” her sister answers without even looking up.   
“Wouldn’t you like being a boy sometimes?” Lyanna asks, making Serena sigh.   
“Maybe Father would love me more, right?” She cannot hier sarcasm in her voice.  
“This.... this is not what I meant....” Lyanna gasps.   
Serena takes her sister’s hand and squeezes it gently:  
“I know dear sister. I know. Well, being a boy does not only have advantages. You may die in a battle, you have to learn how to sword fight and training, whether it is snowing, raining or winding. And if you don’t have sons what you grow up, everyone mocks you. No, I am happy to be a girl. I just wish.... Father would be as happy as I am”  
Lyanna lets her head rest on her sister’s shoulder:  
“Who do you think we will marry?” She innocently asks.   
“Southern Lords probably. That’s what Father wants”  
“I don’t wanna leave Winterfell” Lyanna sighs sadly.   
“Unfortunately, you’ll have to. Only boys will stay here with their wives. Unless Father send them to strongholds.”  
Lyanna sighs again and Ser Rodrick walks to them:  
“My Ladies, we should go back. Night will soon be there.”  
“Very , Ser Rodrick” Serena nods and stands up, picking up a few flowers. Noticing the inquiring look from the knight, she whispers:  
“For Mother.”  
“Sweet thoughts, child” he says with a smile.   
They ride back to the castle, and Serena walks with Lyanna to their mother’s tomb. She places the flowers on it, whispers a prayer and cleans the tomb up, taking the dead leaves off the white marble.   
Lyarra has not been buried in the crypt, this one being reserved for Lords and previous Kings in the North. Rickard will rest here when he will die. Serena lays a slight kiss on the cold stone and walks back in the warm, still holding firmly Lyanna’s hand.


	11. Feels like home

Winterfell, 273 AC

Stannis has come back to Winterfell since a few days, after having left to Storm’s End to celebrate his tenth name day. He feels weirdly relieved to find himself again among the Starks, Robert having humiliated him again, even on his birthday. He has first mocked his gift, a beautiful book on the history of the Seven Kingdoms, then has taken up all of their parents attention, while Stannis was chewing on his piece of cake, sullenly. Robert has told everyone how much he loved his life in the Eyrie, how much he was loving Ned. Stannis has weirdly felt a jealousy almost morbid when he has heard this. Ned has been his friend too, at least that’s what he thought. He has looked at his brother as coldly as possible, as nastily as possible. He hates him, and he admires him. He admires his charming ways, his beauty, already very manly, his thundering laugh and his booming voice. He admires the way he uses his sword, his impressive strength for a child this young, his taste for food and, already, for alcohol. And he hates him. He hates his strange propensity to steal from him everything he is holding dear: the love and attention from his parents, Ned’s affection... He is born the second, and he has the feeling he will always remain in the shadow of his older brother, better than him in every ways.   
But now, he is here, in Winterfell, and he thinks again smiling about shouts of joy from Serena, Lyanna and Benjen when he has walked in the castle, and how they all have hugged him tight, gathering around him. Is it normal to feel closer from these children than from his own brother? He cannot even realise this. When he has gotten here, he has been stricken by fear and anguish, to leave as a fosterling before his older brother, which is very unusual in Westeros. He has even been persuaded it has been Robert’s idea to tear him apart of his parents, so he will be the only one in Storm’s End. But Lord Stark’s niceness, Serena’s affection and of course Ned’s friendship have quickly changed his mind. He has found children here, like him, who enjoy talking, reading, and even fighting, but a pleasure comparable to his, not to Robert’s, who has always scared Stannis. This ardour he places in any fight, even without challenge, Stannis has never felt this, and neither has Ned.   
Alone in his bedroom, he sits at the little wooden desk placed against the wall, a window on his left to be the more luminous possible. He takes a quill, delicately puts it in an inkwell before running it on a parchment destined to his parents. They have not taken him back to a Winterfell. His uncle Harbert has, and has since gotten back to Storm’s End. Very wordy in his letters, Stannis writes his parents about the journey to Winterfell, the dangers they could have met, the Starks joy when they have seen him again. He slightly moves the quill away from the parchment and looks through the window with a slight smile. He has missed snow. He also has missed the Weirwood, even tho they are not his Gods. He gets back to his letter, concentrated on the words that blacken the beige parchment. Sometimes, he is not sure if he really should express his happiness of being here, far from his father and mother, scared they think he does not love them anymore, or less than Lord Stark, but it is hard for him to refrain his enthusiasm when he tells them about his long talks with Lord Stark, the rides with Serena, the hide and seek with the two youngest. He even dreams about having a younger brother or sister, someone who would not be like Robert, someone he could care about, he could learn something to, with whom he could play without feeling a permanent competition. But Stannis doubts it will happen: Robert is 11, Stannis 10. If his mother has been pregnant again, it would have happened years ago. He quickly signs the parchment, seals it, before joining the aviary and binding it at a raven’s leg. He watches the bird flying away with a smile, then walks back to the castle, finding again his playmates. Serena is having fun with Lyanna, but looks up when she notices Stannis.   
“What about a ride?” She proposes.  
“Gladly” Stannis smiles.   
Lyanna already stands up to go with them, but Serena stops her with a gesture.  
“Only Stannis and I”  
The little girl pouts, but her sister does not fall for it, kisses her cheek whispering:  
“Don’t worry, we will ride together another time, but, you understand, I have not seen Stannis in a while”  
Lyanna slightly nods but cannot help feeling slightly jealous about the young Baratheon. She watches her sister and their young guest walking away to the stables.   
Serena sighs with relief when her horse steps out of the castle. Stannis gives her an inquiring look, but does not dare asking why she looks so relieved to get away from the castle. He suddenly feels her hand on his, squeezing it firmly and he gives her a surprised look:  
“I have missed you a lot, Stannis” she whispers.  
Stannis is about to reply when the horses rear and almost unhorse them. Stannis stifle a curse and, as he looks up at the road, he gasps with surprise: in the middle of the road, a wolf stands here. Stannis has seen a lot of wolves, but none comparable to this one. It is huge, easily reaching their horses withers, but it does not look hostile at all. It watches them almost curiously, as if it was seeing people for the first time. Stannis hears a strange sound by his side, and stifle an horrific yell when he sees Serena has gotten off her horse. He watches her slowly stepping towards the wolf, and whispers her name as a warning:  
“Serena, come back here. It’s dangerous. Don’t get any closer from him”  
“It’s her” Serena whispers in turn. “It’s a she-wolf”  
And what a she-wolf, Stannis thinks. Her fur is grey, a magnificent grey, which weirdly reminds him of her friend’s eyes. The wolf’s eyes stare at Serena now, eyes yellow as the sun. Serena steps slowly, before kneeling in front of the animal. Marvelled, she cannot look away from her, and raises her hand to the wolf’s head. She shivers with fear when the she-wolf slightly shows her white fangs, as a warning. She is wild, and Serena should not forget about it. She hears Stannis voice again, asking, begging her to come back to him. Already, the young boy, even tho he knows his gesture is totally unconscious, has grabbed his sword’s guard, ready to unsheathe it.   
“The direwolf is my house’s emblem” Serena whispers. “She will not hurt us in any way”   
Stannis does not answer, but doubts the wolf knows about Westerosi houses emblems. For a long moment, he stares at the beautiful, graceful and respectful spectacle. His heart hammers in his chest, but he could not say if it is because of fear or marvel, unless it is a mix of the two things. Silence is only broken when howls can be heard from deep inside the woods, the howls of a wolf. The She-wolf’s ears prick up and, without looking away from Serena, she slowly walks away to the woods. Serena watches her leave, both marvelled and disappointed by this awesome but so short meeting. Stannis sighs so loudly after the wolf has disappeared he feels like he has stopped breathing for hours.   
“When your father will know about this...” he whispers, stunned by this unexpected meeting.  
Serena joins her horse, gathers her reins in one hand, slides her hand in the stirrup and, while she gets on her horse and sits on his back, turns to Stannis:  
“My father will not believe me. He never does”  
On these words, she spurs her horse, making it trot on the path.


	12. Ned & Brandon

The Eyrie, 274 AC

Sun has barely risen when the two children living under Lord Arryn’s protection and benevolence walk in the courtyard of the castle. They both hold swords in their hands, but today, they’re not wooden swords anymore, but regular ones. They remain training swords, and thus do not cut, to avoid any injury. The youngest of the boys, way smaller than his adversary, swallows hard, staring at his friend. Their host watches them, leaning on the stone guardrail. He smiles unintendedly, knowing the children may be scared. Not of failing, but rather of hurting each other. With a formidable shout, summoning his courage, Robert rushes on his friend. Ned has barely time to raise his arm when Robert’s sword smashes his. The metallic sound surprises him, who is more used to the wooden one. Jon Arryn, who watches them, feels a shiver running up and down his spine: this day is not only important for the children, but also for him. In Westeros, a child is considered an adult at 16 years old: boys turn to men, and this is when the fosterlings leave the House they have lived among. The old man fears this day. He has grown very attached to these two young boys, who are to him like the sons his wives have not given to him. Jon has been married twice, his first wife has died giving birth to a stillborn, and his second wife of a cold, without giving him children. Sometimes he feels he is cursed by the Gods, and that he will never have children. Sometimes, he thinks this cursing can be seen as a gift from the Seven because, without it, he would have maybe never known Robert and Ned. Those two children have always been very different from each other, but their friendship just looks reinforced by this difference. Rickard has explained Jon that Ned feels very close from Robert’s brother, Stannis, sent as a fosterling to Winterfell. By the bye, when they first arrived, Jon has noticed Ned looked like he was defying of Robert. The gods only have known what Stannis has said about his elder brother. Robert has confided in Jon, explaining he could not love his brother, despite all his efforts to change this. The young boy was feeling awfully guilty and Jon has done his best to ease his conscience. He has tried to explain him that, as no one could choose his friends, complicity and affection between members of the same family have never been guaranteed by the fact that the same blood is running in their veins. Robert has no common points with Stannis, except their black hair and their blue eyes. Robert is a joker, Stannis is serious. Rober is very greedy, not Stannis. Robert loves fighting, Stannis does not. So many differences have teared the brothers apart, but which, oddly enough, have brought together Robert and Ned. Because, Jon knows this very well, Ned’s temper is way closest from Stannis’s than from Robert’s. Jon wonders what will be the fate of this child when he’ll grow up, and that he will become the Lord of Storm’s End. He hopes his teaching will be enough to turn him into a good Lord, and that he will know how to tame his wild nature. But, for now, Robert is still here. So is Ned, and he smiles again watching their duel. 

Borrowtown, same time.

Brandon listens pretty distracted to Lord Dustin, who explains him the goal of their visit to Lord Ryswell. At this time, it is difficult for the young Stark to concentrate on his duty to learn from Lord Dustin how to rule lands. The idea of seeing Lord Ryswell’s daughter again, Barbrey, excites him way more than these endless talkings around a table about a castle’s ruling. Brandon has always been very pleasantly received by the Lord of the Rills, and has multiplied his visits lately. He has fallen in love with Barbrey but, too young, he cannot hope to marry her yet. Moreover, he needs to talk to his father about her. Ryswells are powerful, and renowned, and Brandon thinks it will not be too difficult to convince his Lord and father. But, for now, he needs to keep learning, for a few years, the difficulties of ruling. He has to sit at numerous councils, receiving numerous grievances, foreseeing to amass harvest in case of a winter too harsh, but also being careful that everyone working in the castle is serious and loyal. A bad master at arms will not teach much to his sons, Lord Dustin tells him. Brandon also learns, again and again, how to sword fight, tries to dominate his belligerent nature working his tactics with William, Lord Dustin’s son. He is way better than him, but William is also wiser, calmer and smarter, forcing him to foil his attacks. When the lesson is over, the young people come back in the castle and they both attend their business. Lord Dustin does his best to equitably teach the two boys, keeping in mind nevertheless their different futures: William will only be a Lord, while Brandon will be a Lord paramount, commanding all the Houses which have sworn allegiance to him, including William’s. The two young boys often squabble about this, but Lord Dustin does not think it is funny. When Lord Stark asks him how his son does, he cannot help sharing his worries about Brandon: he loves fighting, a lot, and, if he often has the advantage thanks to his power, his impulsivity worries his host. Not about this time, but about his future, because Lord Dustin feels this aggressiveness does not lower with age, on the contrary. Sometimes, Brandon even gets mad at William, and his voice rumbles throughout the castle, calming down only when Lord Dustin intervenes. On the other side, Brandon is loveable and charming, so no one holds his fits of rage against him. Despite everything, his host remains worried, and hopes doing his best to teach his fosterling that moderation and self control are not synonyms for weakness.


	13. Growing up and changing

Winterfell, 275 AC

When the sun breaks through the room’s curtains, this morning, young Serena squints and groans with discontent. She turns around to not endure the violent assaults of the sun that already shines brightly in Winterfell’s sky. The young girl huddled up, painful belly pangs making her whimper. When she sits up in her bed, thinking hunger torments her, she feels her sheets wet under her. She gasps with surprise and pushes the blankets quickly before letting out a shriek that rings out in the whole castle.   
Nan is busy working when she hears the awful yell coming from Serena’s room: she rushes there with some guards and sees the door wide opened and Stannis standing in front of the bed, still. When she understands the reason of the girl’s terror, she puts the guards and Stannis outside, before reaching for Serena, in tears.   
“Now, now, my Lady. Everything is alright” she sits down careful of avoiding the huge stain of blood that has ruined the sheets. Serena moves away from it also, looking down and ashamed.   
“What is this?” She whispers afraid.   
Nan suddenly realises she has never talked about this with her. It should have been her role to do so, her young mistress having lost her mother. She failed in her duty, and feels very guilty.   
“Those are your moons, my Lady. You have bled for the first time. You are a woman now.”  
Serena incredulously looks up at her, but Nan can also read pride in her eyes.   
“A.... a woman?” She stammers.  
Nan smiles tenderly and nods, her hand stroking the cheek still round, mark of a soon finished childhood. She still remembers this little baby, unexpected, who has squeezes her brother’s hand when she has come to birth. Nan has seen her growing up, making her first steps, riding, and it’s in her arms she has wept her mother for a long time. It was in her arms she has woken up from awful nightmares, it was NaN she was confiding in about her feelings towards her father, her brothers, her sister, the young Baratheon. And now, she seems more drifted than ever from her mistress. Serena holds her belly, and Nan strokes her hand slowly:  
“I am gonna ask Maester Walys to prepare something to ease your pain” she smiles gently and Serena quickly nods.   
Nan leaves the bedroom, taking the bloody sheets with her. When she gets out, the guards are gone, but Stannis is leaning against the wall by the door. He rushes on Nan:  
“How is she? What happened to her?!”  
“It is my Lady’s choice to answer your questions, my Lord” She curtseys.  
It is a too much private affair for Nan to talk about it in Serena’s place, but Stannis can see the red stains, and feels his cheeks burning with embarrassment. He perfectly knows what this means but he has thought it would happen way later, in three or four years.   
In her bedroom, Serena walks to the small tub she uses to wash, and takes her tunic off, wincing as she smells the sticky blood and the awful smell that have probably spiked her forever. She sighs and a new belly pang makes her almost fall, holding onto the tub’s wood. She swallows a sob and quickly washes, blood rushing in the water, giving it a red colour, fascinating and making her sick at the same time. She does not even know how to dress up, and patiently waits for Nan to come back. This one does not last, and gives usual clothes to her young mistress before holding a phial to her, that Serena quickly swallows.  
“But.... blood....” Serena protests.  
“You will just need to wash yourself before lunchtime and when you will go to bed, my Lady. Dress up now, quick, the Lord your father wants to see you.”  
“Have you told him?!” Serena cries out, afraid.  
“He has asked me to warn him when it would have happened” Nan nods. “What do you fear, my Lady? Your father perfectly knows a woman’s body. He will not punish you.”  
Serena nods quietly, feeling stupid for this unjustified fear. But, after all, her father terrifies her since her childhood, and she has ruined sheets, and clothes. He could punish her for this. She lets Nan drying her up and dressing her up, wincing as Nan ties her dress on her waist. Nan cannot help admiring her, while she brushes her hair and knots them in an elegant braid. Serena is more and more beautiful, and she knows the first moons turn a girl’s body into a woman’s one. Very soon, her breasts will grow, her hips too, she will put on weight, her face will become finer, and she will grow all of a sudden. Oh, she will not be very tall, but she will not be a child anymore.   
She opens the door to let her out and Serena takes a deep breath before crossing the corridors to her father’s office. She hopes she will see Stannis, but she does not. She hopes he has not been too scared by what he has seen, and that it will not change anything about their friendship. Serena stops in front of the office of her father and closes her eyes a moment, anguish giving her awful belly pain. She knocks, and waits for her father to allow her in. She pushes the door and closes it behind her. Her father smiles at her, something that have not happened for months.   
“Nan has told me you have bled for the first time” he directly says.   
“Yes, my Lord” She whispers.  
“I hope you are not too much in pain” Rickard says before clearing his throat. “My daughter, you do know what the moons mean. Now, you can marry, you can bear children”  
I am only 12, Serena protests innerly, but, deep inside her, she knows he is right. She simply nods:  
“Has my Lord already thought about my future husband?”  
Rickard frowns and Serena bites her lower lip.  
“This matter has been settled a while ago, when I have gotten in the South with Lord Steffon Baratheon.”  
Serena remembers this day, she remembers how Stannis has looked sad and grumpy when he has met them. How much he has changed, she thinks smiling slightly. Rickard goes on:  
“I have talked with many Lords during my journey in the South, and many of them have showed interest in you” he proudly smiles, but Serena wonders if he is proud of her, or of himself and of his talents of negotiator. “I know very well that the life of a Northern house’s lady would have not suited you, and, I confess, I have other ambitions for my children.”  
Serena’s heart hammers so hard in her chest she feels even her father can hear it. Then, all of their fates are sealed. Brandon, her, Ned. Ned.... how could she even live without him?  
“And you, my daughter, I have found you a match worthy of a Stark from Winterfell” he finishes with a smile.  
Serena must gathers all of her courage to stop her voice from quavering:  
“And what is it, Father?” She weakly smiles.  
“Jaime Lannister” Rickard announces with an open pride.   
Serena has to lean on the chair to not faint. Casterly Rock’s heir. The wealthiest house and, people say, the most powerful house of Westeros. If Rickard has wanted to make amends for all these years without affection with a single love proof, he could have not found a better way.  
“Father” She stammers with emotion. “It is so much...”   
Rickard smiles slightly: he remembers this day when he has met Lord Tywin Lannister, the Lord of the Roc. Jamie has been only four back then, but Tywin has seen the advantages he would get allying with the North, the widest region of the Realm. There have been no antagonism between the two houses, and Rickard has precised numerous other Lords would have been delighted to have Serena. Lord Tywin has always been a clever man and Rickard has known living under the Rock’s shining sun would have made his daughter happy.   
“As you know” he says again after nodding, “Jamie is younger than you. Three years younger. So, your marriage will not be celebrated before a few years, when he will be able to perform his marital duties. I will though immediately inform Lord Tywin that you show the first signs of fertility, thanks to your first moons.”  
Serena cannot hide her disappointment: six more years, six long years to spend here.   
“May I also write to my fiancée, Father?” She asks.  
Rickard nods:  
“Of course but, remember, he is just a young boy.”  
Serena nods and smiles warmly to her father:  
“I could have not dreamt of a better marriage, my Lord”  
Rickard smiles slightly, and tells her she can leave.   
As soon as she leaves the room, Serena forgets about her belly pain and about the blood that runs between her legs and runs looking for Stannis. When she sees him in the courtyard, she squeals with joy and rushes in his arms. Stannis cannot hold back a surprised and happy laugh to see her in such a good mood:  
“What is going on?” He asks all smiles.  
“I am engaged! Engaged, Stannis, do you realise?!” She exclaims turning around herself.  
Stannis lips quaver slightly but he tries to keep his smile:  
“Engaged?... to who?...”  
“Jaime Lannister! What happiness, Oh what happiness Stannis! I am so happy!!” She exclaims again and Stannis looks at her, not daring to describe her the weight that has suddenly smashed his heart and his guts. Knowing she is engaged means admitting that soon, they will be teared apart from each other and will may never see each other again. Stannis does not know what hurts him the most: admitting it, or realising she does not even seem to have thought about it, intoxicated with her happiness. Would he be, for her too, a foil? He feels the sweet hands of his friend leaning on his cheeks and stroking them:  
“You too Stannis, you will engaged one day, and I will welcome your son as my father has welcomed you, to this I pledge” she asserts laying two noisy kisses on his skin.   
Stannis cannot help smiling, but this smile vanished as soon as Serena turns her back at him.


	14. Heartbreak

Winterfell, 276 AC

The young Stark and the young Baratheon have been up since dawn, and are sharing a copious breakfast, enjoying the quietness before the two youngest Starks wake up. Rickard demand over and over again more from his eldest daughter lately, as she is now the second authoritarian model behind him. As Brandon and Ned are away, Serena must makes people obey you as the lady of Winterfell. The moments when the castle is still half asleep are the best for them, since she is drifted off her responsibilities. She enjoys her breakfast, noticing that Stannis barely eats. In a few months, at the beginning of the newt year, Lord Baratheon has foreseen the organization of a tourney in Storm’s End. the Starks will be invited of course, and Serena cannot wait to discover Stannis’ home castle. Himself should be excited and happy, but he has turned back grumpy lately, and looks like he is not happy anymore in Winterfell. Serena is very saddened by this, thinking Stannis is her best friend and not wanting to be drifted away from him. She observes him thus, eating silently, her back straight, as Nan has taught her. Stannous seems in his own thoughts, his fork smashing the food, grabbing a few pieces and leading them in his mouth, chewing them slowly.   
« I have two gifts for you » Serena suddenly says, willing to lighten up the mood.  
Stands looks up and a rare smile enlightens his face. He is handsome, Serena thinks. The start of her moons and her growing up have given her a brand new perspective about boys. She notices now things that did not interest her before: muscles, butts, lips. Everything about boys fascinate her, from their propensity to fight for everything and anything, to their ways of eating, of talking, of drinking. Of course, she thinks some are boorish. Others, such as Ser Rodrick or Stannis, are way more charming and refined. And, now, Stannis’ handsomeness hits her as a slap in her face. His deep blue eyes, his black hair falling to his shoulders, his height, his muscled arms and his large hands, with short nails so he will not bite them, and this smile, the most charming smile she has ever seen, even in Brandon, or Ned. Stannis’ eyes shine when he smiles, and it is impossible not to smile in turn, then.   
« Serena? » his voice brings her back to him and she quickly smiles, trying to chase away her almost indecent thoughts.   
« They are in my room. Are you done? » she notices the plate, half empty.  
Stands eyes his plate and swallows two or three more bites before wiping his mouth and his hands. He nods and stands up. Serena imitates him and leaves the Great Room, climbing up the stairs to her bedroom. She feels the warm breath of Stannis behind her, and brutal but delightful belly pangs hit her. What is going on with her? She feels now almost ashamed of getting in her room with a man, as if she has to keep this place preserved, pure. Stannis, him, follows her without a word, noticing the constant evolution of her body, or her shapes. He swallows hard when they get in her room, but Serena does not close the door behind them, as she uses to. He watches her walking to her bed and taking in her arms a magnificent fur coat.   
« It is for you » she smiles placing the heavy coat in Stannis’ arms.  
« It is beautiful » he whispers stroking the grey fur, soft as silk, warm as a comforting fire.   
She kisses his cheek and he feels his cheeks reddening. He smiles slightly and places the coat around his shoulders, looks at her:  
« How do I look? »  
« You are beautiful. You look like a King » Serena whispers, slightly arranging the coat on his shoulders.   
Stands has a slight embarrassed laugh, and Serena moves away from him, before taking a sheet covering something on the ground.   
« My second gift » she smiles holding it to him. Stannous slowly takes the sheet off: it hides a cage, in which a beautiful goshawk, all grey, stands, with yellow eyes staring at the young boy.  
« He will be a good fellow for Proudwing » Serena says as she opens the cage. « Maybe they will have babies »  
Just before leaving Storm’s End for Winterfell, Stannis has found a young goshawk, injured. He has healed and called her Proudwing. He has often complained to Serena that this bird has turned him ridiculous because she was flying very badly, but he could not resolve himself to abandon her. She follows Stannis everywhere. The one Serena has bought was Proudwing's opposite: big, powerful, majestic. Stannous cannot help taking Serena in his arms and hugging her tight. Serena smiles and wraps her arms around him, slightly stroking his back.  
« Thank you » he whispers in her ear. « Thanks for everything… »  
« You are welcome Stannis. You deserve it » she whispers in turn.   
She hears a gasp and notices Nan who observes them, standing by the doorframe. She quickly moves away:  
« Let’s go hunt » she orders more than she proposes, and Stannis understands this sudden behavior change only when his eyes meet Nan’s. He looks down when he passes by her and follows Serena to the stables, still holding his goshawk.   
They both leave and Serena becomes again charming and close from him as soon as they leave the castle. They chat while, upper their heads, their birds start hunting. Serena tells him she often meets the dire wolf they have seen for the first time together, and that she dreams about her almost every night. Stannis talks about Storm’s End and about his last visit to the castle, of his parents and of Robert, as far from him as possible. Serena feels very sad for Stannis, even more since she receives a letter from Ned per week, when her friend does not receive any from his brother. Most of the time, with Serena’s letter is a word for Stannis from Ned. Never from Robert. The two young people end up stopping by « their » tree, where they spend most of their time when they are not in the castle. They keep talking, smiles don’t leave Stannis’ smile, and even Serena relaxes, jokes and laughs. She is happy with Stannis, she feels she can be herself only with him. Benjen is still so young, and Lyanna cannot stop mocking her sister, wether it is because of her taste for sewing or beautiful dresses, or again her haste to marry Jaime. Stannous understands her, accepts her, with her qualities and her faults. They keep chatting, confiding in each other, until they hear a shriek and that Stannis’ bird bring them a beautiful hare. Serena’s one has caught a young partridge, and the two teenagers grab the preys and place them on their saddles. When they ride back to the castle, the sun at his zenith, Serena turns to Stannis:  
« You need to find a name for your goshawk »  
Stannis nods and strokes the bird’s feathers slowly:  
« I think I will call him Lightning »  
« Very nice name » Serena smiles and spurs her horse to make him gallop to the castle. When they have taken care of their horses, and that Stannis has introduced Lightning to Proudwing, they both join Serena’s family for lunch. Stannous notices Lord Rickard’s insistent look towards him, and wonders with anguish if Nan has told him about what she has seen this morning. While the children are eating silently, the Lord of Winterfell turns to Stannis:  
« I will need to see you, Stannis » He feels Serena’s muscles tightening at his side and her fork shakes in her hand.  
« Why, my Lord? » Stannis asks, dying to reassure his friend. Lord Rickard gives him a severe and cold look:  
« A private affair about you, and I will not discuss it in front of my own children. » Stannis nods and does not answer, finishing his food.   
The other children have barely finished eating when Rickard orders them to leave. Stannis looks up at him, and does not move, knowing perfectly Rickard wants him to stay. The Lord takes a parchment in one of his pockets and holds i tat Stannis :  
« This letter has arrived this morning when you were hunting with my daughter. Congratulations, Lord Stannis. »  
The young Baratheon feels his blood turning to ice, and his hand violently shake when he grabs the parchment. Rickard raises an eyebrow. So, this is how he will know the name of the one he is going to marry. From a simple letter. At thirteen years old, he perfectly knows he has one year left before he is able to get married. One year before leaving Winterfell and Serena forever. He almost hopes he could become a knight and get into the Lannister’s service, so he would always be able to protect Serena. He swallows hard and unfolds the paper, reading the few words his father has written. When he closes the parchment again, he bursts out lauging, nervously. His father does not tells him who he will marry : he infrms him his mother is pregnant again, and that the young baby should be borna t the beginning of the year 277. Rickard stares at the young Baratheon, obviously unable to stop laughing :  
« You look very happy to learn about having soon a young brother or sister, Stannis. It is pleasant to see. »  
Stannis’ relief is just as intense as stress and fear that have overwhelmed him hearing about this letter.  
« I am, my Lord » he says wiping a few tears shining in his eyes. « I am also relieved, to be honest. I thought my father was writing to tell me I was engaged. »  
« Don’t you feel an inclination for marriage ? » Rickard looks at him, surprised.   
Stannis does not know how to answer this. He chooses his words before carefully saying :  
« I want to get married, to have children, but… I would like to marry a woman I love… or a woman I would have choen, at least. »  
Rickard bursts out laughing before swallowing a large gulpof beer :  
« My word, you talk like Lyanna ! You will need to grow up, dear child. Love marriage do not last in this kingdom. Targaryens have understood it, and look at this poor Tywin Lannister… He has loved his Joanna more than any man has ever loved his wife. Look at what has been the fate of this love » he shakes his head sadly.   
Stannis looks at him shyly :  
« Serena has always told me you loved her mother… »  
Rickard freezes and blemishes. He does not like talking about such private affairs with Stannis. Even though he is his fosterling, he remains a stranger in Winterfell.   
« I have loved Lyarra, yes. I have wept her. But our love has been built slowly, month after month, after our marriage. In our world, Stannis, you cannot be a dreamer, and you cannot believe all these fairytales Nan harps on about. Life is no fairytale, and love can destroy way more lives than a war can. »   
Stannis knows what Rickard is talking about, and nods. All his life, the young boy has learnt how to do his duty. Learning how to swing swords, respect his parents and hi solder brother, loving them, the best he can, learning from Lord Rickard, being brave without being cruel, patient without being inactive, being instructed, cultured, knowing how to talk to Lords and to small folks. All these things are his duties, and he knows that, if he will never beat Robert in the training courtyard, he will probably be a better negociant, a better diplomat, because he has learnt from one of the best Lords of the Seven Kingdoms. He watches Lord Rickard emptying his beer, and closing his eyes a moment, before whispering, without even looking at him :  
« You are an excellent fosterling, Stannis. You will be a great Lord. Tell your father to find you a fiancee who has no brother, so you can rule her lands. It will not be easy, but there must be one in this world », he smiles slightly. « Go study now, my boy. »  
Stannis stands up and bows, even though Rickard does not see him, and leaves the Great Hall to join Maester Walys. When he gets in, Serena is already here, a dreamy look towards the window, and the young boy’s heart tightens. Lord Stark is right : there is one in this world. Only one.


	15. Storm’s End

Accalmie, 277 AC

In the black Berlin pulled by four horses that take her family to Storm’s End, Serena cannot hide her impatience. It is the first time she is leaving Winterfell, and she could have not dreamt better than visiting her best friend’s castle. Stannis has left the North a few weeks ago already, his little sibling about to be born. Serena has felt very lonely without her friend and is eager to see him again. The tourney Lord Steffon Baratheon organises for his child’s birth promises to be a great one. All the great houses of the realm will be here, including the king, Aerys. Serena knows she will also meet her future husband, Jaime Lannister. This thought makes her both very happy and slightly scared. She fears she won’t please the young Lannister, even though everyone around her assures it won’t be the case. When the towers of Storm’s End castle appear in front of her, she can see Stannis black hair standing in front of the door. She lets her face out through the window and waves at him, all smiles. Stannis waves back and turns to his father, walking behind him.   
Lord Rickard greets warmly Lord Steffon, and Stannis hugs Serena tenderly before leading her inside and making her visiting his home. Very soon, Serena asks if she can see the baby, and Stannis in turn asks his father, who accept. Stannis then takes Serena to the bedrooms, and silently gets in one of them. In the middle of the room stands a cradle and Serena walks to it, unable to hold her huge smile back. She slightly moves away the veil that protects the baby and hardly holds back a marvelled cry as she discovers this beautiful infant.  
“He looks like you” she tells Stannis in a whisper to not wake the baby up.   
“You think?” Stannis asks grinning. “Father says he looks like my mother, though.”  
Serena shakes her head:  
“He has your hair” she smiles rubbing a hand in Stannis black hair.   
He watches her surprised, but enjoys those last intimacy moments with her, one of the last before their inevitable separation. They are interrupted by Stannis mother, Cassana, who warns them the other guests have arrived and that the feast will soon begin. While they join their parents, Serena is called out by her father. She walks to him and gasps with surprise seeing Lord Tywin, with his children Cersei and Jaime. She curtseys respectfully in front of the Hand of the King.   
“Lord Tywin, let me introduce you to my daughter Serena” Rickard says and the young girl cannot stop blushing hearing the proud tone of her father.  
Tywin smiles slightly in front of the young Stark: he has lost all joy of life since the death of his wife Joanna, but he is happy of the future marriage he has arranged. He remembers the last words of his wife, begging him to separate the twins. Not knowing why, or rather not wanting to admit it, he has done everything to keep his promise. Serena also curtseys in front of Cersei and Jaime, observing the boy curiously. The heir of Casterly Roc is already very handsome. Beautiful blond locks of hair falling to his shoulders, fascinating emerald eyes, a knightly appearance, and a certain talent for fighting. If he smiles slightly to his fiancée, Serena cannot ignore the murderous look his sister Cersei gives to her. She tries to carry on regardless, and Tywin and Rickard install the two fiancées side by side for the feast.   
The tourney lasts for a fortnight, and Serena realises those few days are very important for her. At first, things go very well. She meets the King, very impressed, but also used to see him talking to Lord Steffon and Lord Tywin as if they were old friends. As the whole realm, she knows these three men have gotten very close during the Ninepenny Kings war, that broke out in 260 AC. By the way, a rumour says the King has asked Lord Steffon to find a suitable fiancée for his son Rhaegar. But very quickly, the mood of the tourney cools down: the King publicly refuses to engage Rhaegar to Cersei Lannister, arguing a prince could never marry the daughter of a servant, whatever the fame of this one. Serena is surprised by this announcement, Aerys looking like he has chosen to ignore his Hand’s request since a long time. The young Stark tries to forget about politics and to concentrate on her fiancée, but this one looks totally indifferent to her. He talks as seldom as possible with her, spending his time with Robert Baratheon and Brandon Stark. Serena is disillusioned, and confides in Stannis, who does not know how to solace his friend.   
“He is still young” he tells her between two jousts. “He needs more time.”  
Serena nods sadly, but feels well that this young boy is not like the others. As for the tourney, it fascinates her as much as it disgusts her: Lord Steffon wants to joust, ignoring his wife’s demands to stay with her and their baby. Robert joins him, but both of them are defeated, respectively by Rhaegar Targaryen and Barristan Selmy. Serena cannot stop squeezing Stannis’ hand very tightly when his father and brother are unhorsed. Luckily, no one is injured, but Serena thinks it is curious to enjoy such dangerous hobbies. At the end of this fortnight, Stannis goes back to the Stark to Winterfell, and Serena looks happy again. She knows now these moments are even more precious as they will become more and more rare, and she wants to enjoy them as much as possible. Although, she has loved living in Storm’s End: the sound of the waves against the rocks has become a sweet lullaby, and she knows she will miss it. For her, the castle is even more impressive than Winterfell: its huge walls, its impressive towers and its legendary story have definitely impressed the young girl. Stannis has told her about all these stories, and his eyes shine so much when he evokes the prestigious history of both his castle and his ancestors, that Serena just loves this fortress in turn. And though, while they are riding back to Winterfell, it’s on Stannis lips that the smile is the widest. Rickard notices it, and looks through the Berlin’s opening thoughtful, a foreboding overwhelming his heart.


	16. The storm

Winterfell, 278 AC

Serena spurs her horse as hard as she can and, for the first time of her life, gets ahead her sister Lyanna, galloping behind her. Her heart beating fast, her smile widens with each stride that gets her closer from the castle. Stannis has left for many weeks in Storm’s End: the more he gets older, the more time he spends with his parents, or with Lord Rickard going all over the North and visiting allied houses. In short, the moments between him and Serena have become rare but, today, Serena knows he gets back in Winterfell. Lyanna has insisted for a ride, and Serena has accepted, but now, she just wants to see her friend. As she gallops in the courtyard, she can see a servant placing Stannis’ horse in his stable. She gets off her own horse and rushes in the castle. A hand slams her wrist and brutally holds her back: she cries out with pain and looks up. Her father stands in front of her, looking shattered.  
“Are you going to see Stannis?” He asks.  
Serena nods and gasps feeling his grasp tightening.  
“Father, what is it?” She asks, frightened by his behaviour.  
“His parents.... Lord Steffon and Lady Cassana.... they.... their ship sank... Stannis and Robert have seen everything.... in front of the castle....” he stammers, so much Serena needs a few seconds to understand what is going on. She frees herself in a brutal movement and runs away to Stannis’ room. She stops in front of the wooden door, and sticks her ear on the door: Stannis is here. She can hear him. She knocks slightly and gets in without even waiting for his answer, shutting the door behind her.  
Stannis is on the bed, dozens of letters scattered around him. His shoulders are hanging, and Serena cannot ignore the jolts that agitate them. She feels tears coming to her eyes and violently bites her lip to not cry. The young girl joins her friend, and sits by his side, without a word. Stannis does not look at her, his face hidden in the crook of his arm, his hand holding one of the letters and tears that, while falling, are blurring the ink of another one. Serena looks at him, and runs a hand in his back, stroking it, clumsily trying to comfort him. He whispers between two sobs:  
“They’re dead.... my parents are dead....”  
“Oh Stannis....” Serena can simply whisper and takes his face in her hands, lays soft kisses on his skin. Stannis indulges, leans on her, as he has always been able to, but this time, it is not only psychologically, but also physically. His brow leans on her neck while he repeats those words, as if it could help him when they just turn him even more miserable. Serena’s hands lift his face up so he looks at her, and her lips strokes his cheeks, his brow, her hands run in his hair. She whispers his name, some “I’m sorry” and her lips get dangerously close from Stannis’ ones.  
It’s him who takes her mouth with his, in a desperate urge, a pulsion of life, of wanting to feel alive. Serena does not spurn him: she is unable to. She lays on the bed, among the letters, and Stannis kisses her with a passion she could not think possible. While his lips run to the young girl’s neck, he whispers again, but different words this time.  
“I love you Serena...”  
The young Stark closes her eyes and, holding a sob back, she finally spurns him:  
“I.... I can’t... I.... Jaime.... you understand...”  
In a haste, she sits up, and tries to arrange her haircut. Stannis is still half laying on the sheets, both ashamed of himself and sad she had spurned him. However, he knows she is right: she is engaged, and has a duty towards her Lord and father, as well as her future husband. But he knows what her feelings are for him: he can see it in her eyes, in her haste of meeting him again. He stammers:  
“Forgive me, my Lady.... I... I don’t know why I did this...”  
Serena tried to calm down the furious heartbeats in her chest and her hand, again, runs in his hair. Stannis closes his eyes and new sobs make him shake violently.   
“I forgive you” she whispers. “I know too well what it is to lose a parent” her throat gets dry as she remembers her own reaction to her mother’s death. Stannis, him, does not yell. Maybe he has, though, when he has seen the waves submerging his parents ship, when he has heard the frightened yells of the sailors, of his father and his mother. Now, he leans his head on his friend’s knees and, while Serena tries to ease his pain, he feels guilty, awfully guilty to be happy to be here, with her, alone for a few moments, when he should weep his parents. Many contradictory feelings tumble out in his soul, leaving him exhausted, and he closes his eyes, slowly drifts off, rocked by Serena’s sweet voice who sings a Northern lullaby.   
In the doorframe, Lord Rickard is observing them, a severe look staring at Serena’s least movement. His eldest daughter needs to go, he decides. Quickly, before she shatters all of his plans.


	17. Illegitimate

The Eyries, 279 AC

Eddard follows Robert to an isolated house of the Eyries. The young man has not wanted to tell anything to his friend about the reason of this visit, and Ned is slightly worried, knowing very well Jon Arryn is not aware of their departure from the castle.   
Robert stops in front of the door and knocks. A few seconds later, a woman opens, holding an infant in her arms. She grins huge at Robert, who does not smile back, and who grabs Ned’s sleeve to lead him inside. He finally greets the young woman and opens his arms:  
“May I hold her?” He asks, looking emotional.   
Ned does not know how to react while the young girl carefully lays the baby in his friend’s arms. Robert stares at the child:  
“This is my daughter, Ned. Mya” he smiles as if these news will make Ned jump for joy.   
Ned does not feel any happiness: he looks at the baby, then at Robert, wondering if he has other bastards he has hidden from him. Already a father. Ned thinks he would be smarter than this: everything is known in Westeros, and a reputation is as easily build than destroyed. He thinks about Stannis, wondering if his friend knows he has a niece, then shakes his head in front of Robert’s enthusiasm.   
“Come on Ned, don’t be a killjoy. Look how beautiful she is” Robert insists.   
She is beautiful indeed. Her black hair totally cover her skull, her blue eyes stare at Robert then at Ned curiously. Without any doubt, a Baratheon. The young Stark tries to smile to the mother: Robert is not the first one to have a bastard, after all, and will certainly not be the last. But Ned has always wanted to be faithful to a woman, his future wife, and his friend’s behaviour turns him ill at ease. Of course, it is not the first time, Jon Arryn having been angry on numerous occasions with the young Baratheon, whether it is because of his mischiefs, or his liking in drinking and fighting. Ned has always been here to make things up but Robert has once more crossed the line. “Will he ever learn?” Ned wonders as Robert places the baby in his arms without even asking for his advice. Eddard gives him a curious look: his friend has never seemed appealed by fatherhood but, now, his eyes shine with happiness looking at this little being and Ned suddenly envies him. So, this is what you feel when you hold your first born in your arms. He suddenly wants, is eager to live this moment, and it’s reluctantly that he gives the baby back to her mother, while she wriggles and looks for her mother’s breast. Ned looks away when the mother feeds her baby, and Robert laughs loudly, mocking his friend. He knows Ned is still a virgin, despite the many occasions he could have. He is rather handsome, less than his brother Brandon or less than Robert, but he looks elegant, and girls like him. But Med has this damned sense of honour that paralyses him and prevents him from doing all the funny things there are in this realm: fucking, drinking and eating overmuch. Ned is moderate in everything, when Robert is passionate. Even his feelings seem to be under control, while Robert is often carried away by passion, whether it is love or anger. And thus, as much as they are different, they are the best friends in the world. Robert knows Ned keeps writing to Stannis, and has sent a long letter after he learnt his parents death. Robert wonders how Stannis has dealt with his return to Winterfell: himself has drank overly, and has fucked this common girl. A few weeks later, she has told him she was pregnant with his child. Robert has thought it was strange: like a celebration of life despite death.   
When they leave the house, Robert promises the girl he will come back as often as possible. Ned knows he will not be back for the girl, but for the child, and he is more and more surprised by the paternal love his young friend seems to experience. Maybe, when he will have married a noble lady, he will love his children more than anyone else. While they get through the high doors of the castle, Ned simply hopes Robert will not get tired of his future wife as quickly as he got tired of Mya’s mother.


	18. The Dragon and the Spear

Port Real, 280 AC

Young Serena watches, marvelled, by the window of her Berlin, the streets, the houses, even the immaculate blue sky of the capital. It is the first time she goes there, and her excitation is at its height. As every other great families of the realm, the Starks have received weeks ago a parchment signed by King Aerys, announcing the realm his son Rhaegar will marry the princess of Dorne, Elia Martell. After the king has refused Cersei marry his son, after losing one of his best friends in a shipwreck while he had sent him finding a fiancée worthy of his son, Aerys had ended up having his heart setting on the Martells daughter, the only Westerosi House that called themselves “princely”. Serena thinks it is a proof of the king’s arrogance, according to him, only a princess is worthy of his son. Serena knows seldom about the Martells, who live at far south of Westeros. The Starks and them are like the two magnets of a compass, at the same time very far from each other and very appealed by each other. Serena just knows Dorne’s people, and more precisely Martells, are tanned, have black hair and almond-shaped eyes. She can’t wait to see what the bride will look like. When she reaches for the Red Keep, armed men welcome her, her father, Benjen and Lyanna. Ned is supposed to join them later, arriving directly from the Eyrie with Robert and Jon Arryn. The future Lord of Storm’s End will find there his brother, who comes from his home castle, with their great uncle Harbert, Storm’s End’s castellan since their parents death. Serena shyly follows the guards, looking all around her, her eyes shining with excitement. She has gotten ready her prettiest outfits, and her shoulders are covered with a fur cloak, even though heat in King’s Landing feels unbearable. The wolves fur cloak are like a symbol of her house, just as the flag with the grey wolf. She shares a bedroom with her brother and sister, and, while the wedding will happen the next day, she wonders if the clothes she has chosen for this event will please her future husband, Jaime Lannister. She has not seen him since Storm’s End’s tourney, three years ago, and thinks he must have changed a lot, now reaching his 14th nameday. The date of their own wedding gets closer and closer. She feels nervous thinking her father will certainly take the most of being here, in the capital, to settle the last details of their wedding. Lord Tywin, as the Hand of the King, has of course been invited for the prince’s wedding. She tries to look through the window, to see Stannis, but the young Baratheon has not arrived yet, or maybe on a path she can’t see through her window.   
The following morning, after a restless night, Serena lets Nan do her hair, her eyes half-closed, wishing she could sleep more. She then gets dressed, putting on again the wolf fur cloak, and joins her father, brother and sister, before walking to the Sept. The crowd is huge: all of the Westerosi families have been invited. She suddenly sees Brandon, and, holding back a cry of joy seeing him, rushes on him to kiss him. The eldest of the Starks laughs heartily with this welcome, and tenderly hugs her. Brandon is the one who comes back the most often in Winterfell, given that he is closer than Ned from their home. However, he is adventurous, and lot of stories have been told about him, especially that he would have seduced his host’s daughter. Serena does not like gossips, especially when they stain her brother’s honour: since a few years, Brandon is betrothed to Lady Catelyn Tully, Lord Hoster Tully’s daughter, the Lord of Riverrun. He even introduces her to her sister, while the two young girls meet for the first time: Catelyn is very gorgeous, Serena cannot help admiring her auburn hair that falls to her kidneys. While she joyfully chats with them, waiting for the ceremony to start, she can see Stannis, talking with his great uncle, Robert and little Renly, who is only three but looks very calm and good. A smile enlightens her face when her eyes meet Stannis’s, and she waves at him. While she is about to join him to talk to him, her father’s hand grabs her shoulder and he walks through the crowd until he joins Lord Tywin, who smiles at Serena, and shows her Jaime, chatting with Cersei, the young Stark is astonished seeing her future husband: he really is handsome, she tells herself. I’m really very lucky. Jaime has grown up a lot, exceeding his sister’s height, although herself is pretty tall for a young girl. His hair is still long, still blonde, and his eyes shine when he smiles. Serena cannot take her eyes off him, making her father laugh, and Lord Tywin smiling. He calls at his son, and Jaime’s smile immediately vanished. Although, he joins his father, and Tywin leans a hand on his shoulder:  
“You must remember Serena Stark?” He asks his son, who nods and takes Serena’s hand in his before laying a kiss on it.   
“Glad to see you again, Lady Stark” he says with a smile, but Serena can feel he would rather be somewhere else. She curtseys, and smiles:  
“Pleasure is shared, my Lord”   
Jaime looks at her a moment, and she has the weird feeling to be detailed. With Nan, she has chosen a blue dress, emphasising the blue reflection of her dark hair, and her grey eyes. She has noticed the numerous looks upon her, and has appreciated them, but she is only looking for her future husband’s approval. She is about to say something but the High Septon announces the start of the ceremony, and Jaime slides his arm under hers, leading her to her spot. While she passes by Stannis, she cannot help noticing the look, both sad and furious, of the young Baratheon. The wedding is doing good: the couple is very beautiful, even if there is not much love between both of them. Serena knows Targaryens are used to marry between themselves, but Rhaegar has no sister, and the king is getting old. He could not wait longer before marrying his son.   
Despite all, Serena thinks the ceremony is very romantic, and watches the least detail, listens to the least word. A legitimate curiosity, as Northern weddings do not occur the same way than Southern ones. To be frankly, the only common point between the two ceremonies is the groom taking the bride’s cloak off to place his in his place. While she watches the young prince doing this, she wonders which tradition she will follow for her wedding: the Northern or the Southern one? Usually, the bride gets married at her castle, the groom going to her castle and this, according to this tradition, she would get married according to the Northern rites. She would prefer this, being more accustomed to it, and finding the perspective of leaving Winterfell for Casterly Roc way too exciting to have to learn about an all new ceremony. When Rhaegar kisses Elia and that the two newlyweds turn to the crowd, Serena cheers with them, wiping a moved tear. They leave the Sept, and the crowd follow them to get to the feast. Jaime is still by Serena’s side, but does not talk to her, or so. Cersei stays with her father, never too far from her twin. She goes and talks to Ned a moment, and Serena wonders what she can tell him. She cannot stand the heat anymore, but is unable to take her cloak off for now. She gets into the feast room, and is very relieved when she gets rid off this burden on her shoulders. Servants lead her to her seat, between Jaime and her father. Jaime is also sit by his own father, Cersei sitting on the other chair by Lord Tywin. Along the feast, numerous houses pay tribute to the prince Rhaegar, very loved by the people and the Lords. Young, handsome, very cultivated, art lover, excellent jouster, the young prince has everything he needs to become an excellent king, there are not many Lords who would deny this. Even Serena finds he is very charming, and she also loves a lot the fragility and sweetness that comes from his wife. She hopes their union will be happy, and that they will give many princes and princesses to Westeros. As for her, while she tastes all these meals the servants have prepared for the feast, she wonders what will her children look like. Will they have the Starks’ grey eyes, or the Lannisters’ emerald ones? Will they inherit their father’s blonde mane, or their mother’s thick and black hair? While she cannot help eyeing a lot her fiancée, sit by her side, she smiles slightly thinking her children may be even more beautiful than Rhaegar and Elia’s ones. Among the numerous talks and the hubbub, usual for these events, Lord Rickard and Lord Tywin manage to settle the last details of their children’s union: the wedding will occur next year, once Jaime will have celebrated his fifteenth name day. Rickard cannot help sighing with relief and his eyes lay upon Lyanna and Ned, the children whose fate has not been decided yet. But Rickard is a man who chooses his fate and his family’s, not a man who endures it. His ambition has pushed him towards South and, for now, he can only be pleased with himself. Tully and Lannister for two of his children, why not Baratheon or even Martell for Lyanna? Elia has a brother, Oberyn, who is not married yet. He is older than her with a few years, but it is not a problem in Westeros. There are also the Baratheons who, Rickard knows it, are not betrothed to anyone. Ned is so close from Robert and Stannis he could help arranging the wedding of one of them with Lyanna. Rickard would prefer Robert, as he is the eldest and this the heir of the Stormlands. As for Ned, Rickard has less possibilities: the Daynes could be one, a Dornish noble family, whose son, Arthur, has the reputation of being the best swordsman in Westeros’ history. They also have a daughter called Ashara, very beautiful. Janna Tyrell, daughter of the late Lord Luthor Tyrell, Would also be a possible bride for Ned, as well as other noble houses, but less prestigious than Tyrells or Daynes. Rickard has to do everything to take the most of Rhaegar’s wedding to definitely base his Southern ambitions.


	19. Betrayed

Port Real, 281 AC

The young teenager gets its good back on his hair, not wanting to be noticed. He walks to an ill famed inn, but where he is certain to find the discretion he needs. He asks for a room, and walks around the tables, where men smile and make fun of the whores who sit on their knees. He gives a disgusted look towards these people, before climbing quickly the stairs that lead to his room. When he closes the door behind him, he smiles satisfied and takes off the cloak that was hiding his face, his identity. Cersei gets in too a few seconds later and falls on his neck, kissing him passionately. It’s her brother she is kissing, this brother she cannot forget, this brother with whom she loves making love so much. No one can understand them, but Cersei doesn’t care. She is not asking for people’s understanding, she just wants to keep her brother for herself until the end of times. A few hours later, in the creased sheets, with their clothes on the ground, she smiles while Jaime’s fingers distractedly stroke her back.   
“I have missed you so much” she whispers to her brother, who smiles and tenderly kisses her.  
“I have missed you too, dear sister. I don’t want to leave you” he sighs thinking again about his wedding that gets close. Cersei feels he is thinking about his future wife, and a wave of jealousy overwhelms her, hardening the shape of her face, turning her almost ugly, suddenly.   
“You think she’s beautiful?” She asks almost sparring in his face.  
“Of course. She is beautiful” Jaime insists before grabbing the blonde mane in his fingers. “But she’ll never be as beautiful as you” he concludes with a brutal kiss, a hungry one. They make love once more, Cersei, when they are done, turning to him:  
“I know how to do so we don’t get apart”  
Jaime watches her surprised:  
“What are you thinking about?”  
Cersei runs her fingertips on her lover’s chest:  
“You are one of the best swordsman, in the history. Everyone agrees on this fact. I can make you join the Kingsguard. You wouldn’t have to marry and we would stay together forever.”   
Cersei has been a lady in court for a while now, accompanying the Queen everywhere. Jaime could stay in King’s Landing, with her, they could see each other everyday. He is immediately seduced by the idea: this wedding with Serena Stark has never pleased him, he has never loved anyone else than Cersei, and he does not want to know another woman. He also does not want to have children, he thinks they are boring and ugly. Jaime knows his sister knows how to use her charms to get what she wants. He knows she won’t have any difficulties getting him in the Kingsguard, and thus destroy their father’s plans. He though fears Tywin’s wrath, but still less than his sister’s if he does not obey her. Smiling at his twin, he settles their deal with a passionate kiss. 

Winterfell  
Lord Rickard puts back down the letter he has just received from his maester’s hands with a weary sigh. He leans on his elbows, hiding his face in his hands. The few words he has just read have left him astonished, a deep awkwardness overwhelming him. He feels both betrayed and dirtied. Just then, someone knocks the door. His face still hidden between his hands, he whispers, although loud enough to be heard:  
“Come in”  
It is Stannis who gets in the office, and Rickard glances at him, wondering what he is doing here. Stannis immediately notices the Lord of Winterfell has received bad news. He walks to the desk, and asks:  
“My Lord, what is going on?”  
Rickard does not know if he has to talk to Stannis, if he has to confide his anger and disappointment. But, he suddenly feels this problem can also turn into an opportunity for Stannis so he learns new things about governing a region. He then simply holds the parchment at the boy. Stannis takes it, frowning, and reads it, his eyes widening with surprise and worry.   
“Will you accept Lord Tywin’s offer?” Stannis questions Rickard. This one ends up looking up, and stares at his fostering:  
“Certainly not. It is just another insult.”  
With these words, he snatches the parchment off Stannis’ hands, and throws it into the fire burning behind him. Stannis knows, now, that his luck, his hour may have finally come. He plucks up courage, sits facing Rickard, scrutinising the face of the one who is like a second father to him, but, his mouth dry with apprehension, he stammers:  
“My Lord, may I propose you something?”  
Rickard stares back at the young lad, and nods, ready to hear what he wants to say. 

Harrenhal  
A new tourney has been organised, this time by Prince Rhaegar, who has ridden to Harrenhal to meet the noble houses of Westeros. Many rumours can be heard about the aim of this tourney, all crazier than the others. The most lasting one says Prince Rhaegar wants to overthrow his father, Aerys, whose insanity is not left to prove by anyone in the realm. Rhaegar knows he is way more popular than his father and his wife, Elia, has given him a young princess, called Rhaenys, and is pregnant again, with a boy, according to the rumours. And thus, the king has decided, for the first time in years, to leave the capital and to be present for the tourney.   
Serena Stark is not interested in all this gossip: she is overjoyed to see another tourney, having appreciated a lot the ones she has already been to. By chance, the tourney is close to Stannis’ birthday, and she decides to offer him his gift during it. Stannis will ride to Harrenhal from Storm’s End, with his brother Robert. Renly will not be here this time, staying with their great uncle in his castle. Serena comes from Winterfell with her whole family, Brandon and Ned included. Her older brother must marry Catelyn Tully soon, and this event turn her very excited and impatient, even though sometimes, sadness overcomes when she knows her brother will leave her. She will not be the Lady of Winterfell anymore, but she tries to chase away those dark thoughts, while she watches the Kingsroad passing by, rocked by the sound of the hooves.   
When she gets in Harrenhal, she greets the many Lords and Ladies she meets, before fetching Stannis’ gift. She has chosen a beautiful black stallion, hoping Stannis will like him. She has never dared offering him more sumptuous gifts, but, more than a nameday gift, it is also a farewell gift, when her departure for Casterly Roc gets more and more close. Jaime will marry her after this tourney. Lost in thoughts, while she brings back the stallion with her family, she rides by Stannis who, by accident, is also leading a horse with no rider. A smile enlightens Serena’s face when she sees her old friend:  
“Stannis!! I am so happy to see you again!”  
Stannis cannot help smiling seeing her enthusiasm:  
“So am I, my Lady. So am I. You have a beautiful horse there” he adds pointing at the stallion. Serena feels her cheek reddening:  
“Yes, he is, thank you Stannis. He’s a gift”  
Her eyes stop in the horse Stannis is leading: it’s a gorgeous isabelline mare, horsehair black as a crow’s wings, and a cream coat, shining under Harrenhal’s sun.   
“This horse is also magnificent” she says in turn.  
“She’s also a gift, my Lady. A wedding one.”  
Serena’s smile vanishes as quickly as it has appeared when she has seen Stannis. She stammers:  
“Who.... who’s getting married, my Lord?”  
“Well, me, my Lady” Stannis stares at her.   
Serena does not understand why, but she feels like she is going to burst into tears. She knows this moment cannot be avoided, that Stannis has to marry, one day. But these news are so brutal, so sudden, that she does not know how to react. The pink of her cheeks has disappeared to be replaced by a strange and troubling paleness.  
“I am sure you will be an excellent husband, Stannis” she whispers to save face.   
Stannis nods slightly, and rides away:  
“I will see you at the tourney, Serena” she says before leaving. He has disappeared for a long time when Serena ends up looking away from the path he has taken.   
The tourney starts the following day, with the melee, but Serena watches the fighters distractedly. All of her thoughts are focused on Stannis, who laughs and cheers for the participants, despite the fact he has never liked tourneys. By the bye, he never participates. The young Stark does not understand what is wrong with her: she should be happy, blooming, grateful to be here with all the young nobles of her country, but she cannot feel anything else than sadness and wonders who will be the future wife of her friend. Robert wins the melee, and Serena cheers without conviction. She quickly sees Jaime, who seems to avoid her. His sister is not here, just like his father, even though he is the Hand of the King. Serena seems like she is the only one shocked by this absence.   
A few days later, while she follows her brothers to the seats from where she will watch the jousts, and while she sits between Lyanna and Ned, she sees the King raising, trembling. Rhaegar has to help him staying up but, after a few seconds, Aerys waves annoyed, and announces a new member of the Kingsguard has been chosen: Ser Harlan Grandison, a previous member, being dead since a few months, a place is unoccupied. Still lost in thoughts, Serena does not understand straightaway when Jaime steps in the arena. It is only when she notices the white cloak on his shoulders that she realises. She leans over her father, and gives him the most disappointed and black look she can: no one joins the Kingsguard without it being known months before. And her, Jaime’s betrothed, she has not even been aware of it. Serena feels the looks upon her: the whole realm know about her betrothal. She looks down, feeling herself blushing. Blushing with anger, and shame. Ned’s arm wraps around her, but she brutally pushes him away, feeling nothing but rage towards her whole family at this moment. She does not look up during the whole joust, and is ready to runaway as soon as all the jousters have competed, but Aerys raises again and she groans with disappointment, only wanting to her back to Winterfell and never see anyone again. The quavering voice of the King rings out in the silent arena:  
“My Ladies, my Lords, I have a new announcement: following Ser Jaime Lannister joining my Kingsguard, and after a constructive discussion with Lord Rickard Stark, I have decided to give my endorsement to the wedding of his eldest daughter Lady Serena Stark, preciously betrothed to Ser Jaime Lannister, with Lord Stannis Baratheon. Wishing them a happy life” he quickly says and heavily sits back.   
Serena feels again all the looks upon her and looks up when the king says her name. Then, when he sits back, she looks again at her father, stares at him, her anger raising in her. She feels like her blood is boiling up in her veins, and that she shoots evil looks at him. Far from calming her down, this announcement hurts her even more, because, once again, she feels betrayed. While the nobles cheer then leave the arena, she remains sit, staring at her father who does not move either. Once they are alone, she says, as calmly as the furious beatings of her heart allow her to:  
“I expect an explanation, Father”  
Rickard ends up looking at her:  
“I thought you would be happy. Lord Tywin has warned me about Jaime’s defection and has proposed you would marry his other son, Tyrion, in his place. Of course I have refused. Stannis has always loved you.”  
He looks naively surprised and his tone, filled with reproach, provokes Serena who bursts out with anger:  
“You have lied to me! You have betrayed me!! You have hidden Jaime’s projects from me!!! You have hidden your projects from me! It is my life we are talking about, not yours!! I know you would have never dare doing this to Brandon, Ned or even Lyanna! You enjoy, yes you enjoy torturing me, and this since I was born! Why?! Why do you hate me so?!!”  
Rickard can’t take her eyes off her, not even trying to calm her down, knowing it is useless. He does not know how to answer her question because he does not know why there is so much aggressiveness between them. That’s just how it is, he has no explanation. He avoids her question and stands up:  
“As I told you, my daughter, I thought my decision will make you happy. I am sincerely sorry if it is not the case”  
Before Serena can answer, he has left the arena and she finds herself alone, her cheeks red, sweating and febrile. She ends up leaving in turn, and, while she walks through the woods to get back to the castle, she hears muffled voices, whispering. Frowning, she expects a new betrayal from her father and discreetly walks towards the voices. She is careful with remaining silent, hiding behind trees, avoiding walking on dead leaves. She can now say the voices are males and females.  
“I know you are the mysterious knight” the man whispers, while the woman denies it weakly. Getting closer again, she sees who it is, and covers her mouth to not cry out with surprise: prince Rhaegar and her sister Lyanna are engaged in a passionate conversation. A secret one. The prince has his hands on her hips, and Lyanna her hands on his chest. She smiles and blushes, a lot. Serena can hear the sweet words, the promises, but does not react. It is only once the prince has walked away, that she is sure he’s gone, that she steps out of her hidden place. Lyanna is still all smiles, and she loses it when she sees her sister. Serena grabs her arm before she can react:  
“What do you think you are doing, Lyanna?” She frenetically asks.  
“Leave me alone” Lyanna frees herself from her grip.   
She tries to leave to the castle, but Serena stands in front of her:  
“He is the future king, Lyanna! You are betrothed, and he is married! He has a little girl, another on the way! How.... how dare you?”  
Lyanna snorts:  
“You cannot understand. He’s a Targaryen, and Targaryens are linked to magic, a magic way older than anything on this land!”  
Serena frowns, not understanding what she is talking about, and says again:  
“You have lost your mind. Do you think Father will let you do? Will let you destroy everything he has built?”  
“Father only thinks about him and his ambitions!” Lyanna now shouts. “I don’t love Robert, I never will! He is.... he is a pig!!” She does with a disgusted pout. “He says he loves me, but he sleeps with every girl he sees, he even has a bastard! Father wanted me to marry a Baratheon, well, you will marry this Baratheon! I will be queen!” She spats those words at her sister’s face.  
Serena cannot help holding back her sarcastic laugh:  
“Queen?! Are you serious? How will you do this? Do you want to kill Elia Martell?!”  
Lyanna remains silent, knowing she has said too much. Serena does not smile anymore now, and grabs her arm again:  
“Be very careful Lyanna.... you are going too far. There will be consequences, serious consequences...”  
Lyanna stares back at her, and frees herself again, running to the castle despite the calls of her sister.   
During the following days, she tries to forgive her father, now worrying a lot about her sister. Stannis talks to her, a lot, looking so happy about this wedding, and tells her it will happen just after the Harrenhal tourney, as it has been foreseen for Jaime. But Serena cannot enjoy her happiness. She watches Lyanna all the time, sees her cry when Rhaegar sings a song playing harp, and is the only one not laughing when Lyanna pours wine on her brother’s head after he has mocked her. She is juste hasted: she wants this tourney to be over, this wedding to be done, and this Prince to go back to King’s Landing with his pregnant wife, and leave her little sister alone.   
The last day finally arrives, but bad news pile up: Rhaegar wins the joust and has to crown his queen of love and beauty. To everyone’s surprise, he rides by his wife Elia, and holds a crown of winter roses to Lyanna, who takes it with a curtsey. For once, Serena’s reaction is the same than all the other spectators: stupefaction and offense. The eldest Stark girl stares at her sister, who stares back, with such insolence Serena stops herself from slapping her. The spectators stare at the prince and Elia blemishes, a tear falling on her cheek, her hand pressing her round baby bump.


	20. Becoming adult

Winterfell, 281 AC

Through the journey that leads them from Harrenhal to Winterfell, Stannis is very considerate of Serena, and she ends up smiling again, little by little. He explains her lengthily the reasons why her father has hidden Jaime’s nomination in the Kingsguard : simply because he thought the unexpected announcement of her wedding with Stannis would make her very happy, and that he saw there a chance to redeem himself for his past behaviour. Serena listens carefully her future husband and understands her father has never wanted to hurt her, and that the only one guilty for how betrayed she felt has been Jaime Lannister, and no one else.   
All the guests of the Harrenhal tourney have followed them to Winterfell, and will have to leave after the marriage. Despite everything, Rickard regrets that Tywin is not here. Deeply hurt and humiliated by the nomination of his eldest son and heir of Casterly Roc, he has abandoned his position as Hand of the King, and has gotten back to Casterly Roc, with his daughter Cersei. The so-called perfect plan she had foreseen has not been successful, Jaime thinks bitterly while he follows the royal escort. He will stay in Kings Landing, and she will be in Casterly Roc, until their father finds a husband for her, who will certainly not live in the capital. The young knight wonders if Cersei has not even used him just so he does not marry.   
In Winterfell, Serena gets ready for her nuptials: her wedding dress has been ready for a long time, sewed by herself. Night and day, she has dreamt of this wedding and, now it is getting real, she ends up realising, after her great anger, how lucky she is. Of course, this husband is not the one she has thought about but, after all, if she could have decided who she could marry, she would have chosen Stannis. Her own reaction at the tourney, when he has told her he will be married soon, has convinced her she is in love with him. And, at least, her dream will come true, her dream of leaving Winterfell, and this father with whom she has such a conflicting relationship.   
The wedding day is set a week after their return in the North: all the Stark banner-men will assist the feast, as well as the noble houses of the realm, but the ceremony in the weir wood will remain intimate. It will happen at nightfall and, the following day, the lords will feast around a banquet, before the young bride will bid farewell.   
The appointed day, Serena takes care of herself: she only thinks about her present and future happiness. After caring her whole life for others, it is time for her to be selfish. She attentively listens to Nan as she makes her neatly wash herself: she cleans her teeth, brush her long black hair and lets Nan braid them. She can see her servant sobbing while she ties her mane with blue reflects, and Serena hardly holds back her tears. Nan has always been here for her, and has replaced her mother many times. Serena also has a long bath, perfumes with oil to shine her skin, and washes her intimate parts. She dries herself in a warm towel, and lets Nan dressing her up with her beautiful white gown. Then, in front of the mirror, she watches the hands of her servant laying the coat on her shoulders. She distractedly strokes the soft fur: will she ever see the dire wolf she has met with Stannis? She will certainly miss the beast.   
“There, you are ready” Nan’s voice strangles in a sob and Serena cannot help herself and takes her in her arms, hugging her lengthily against her heart.  
“I will miss you, Nan” she whispers.   
She has thought about asking her to come with her to Storm’s End, but Nan has children, grand children and even a new great grand children she needs to take care off.   
“I will miss you too, my Lady” Nan cries and pats the back of her young mistress. There will always be Lyanna, she thinks, but the relationship is not the same: Serena loves fairytales, stories, dresses and beautiful hairstyle. Lyanna is closer from a horse than from a lady, to be honest. A sound on the door tears them apart and Rickard gets in, holding a box in his hand. He smiles looking at Serena:  
“My daughter... you are gorgeous”  
Serena curtseys and thanks her father. He walks to her and, opening the wooden box he is holding, he takes the necklace Lyarra, his wife, used to wear everyday. Serena gasps with surprise and Rickard, with soft gesture she ignored he could have, ties the necklace around her neck, before standing in front of her and holding his arms out at her.   
“It is yours by right” he says pointing at the necklace, while Serena slides her arm under his with a smile. He leads her out, followed by Nan, sniffling. When they walk out of the castle, Brandon, Ned, Lyanna and Benjen follow them.   
Their boots sink into the freshly fallen snow, leaving huge prints on the ground. Her heart beating, Serena suddenly panics: what if Stannis, too, changes his mind? But no, Stannis is an honourable man. He knows Serena and he loves her as she is. Trying to reassure herself, she walks by her father, to the Weirwood. Near the old sacred tree, Stannis stands, wearing the coat of his house. By his side, Robert is here, all smiles. Serena bites her lip so it does not shake, and stops walking with her father.  
Stannis’ voice raises:  
“Who comes before the Old Gods this night?”  
Rickard answers:  
“Serena, of House Stark, comes here to be wed. A woman grown, true-born and noble. She comes to get the blessing of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?”  
Serena cannot take her eyes off Stannis, that she finds particularly handsome this night: the moon is full, and reflects on him, giving a peculiar shine on his black hair and in his blue eyes.  
“Stannis of House Baratheon, I claim her” Stannis says again. “Who gives her?”  
“Rickard, of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Governor of the North” Rickard turns to Serena.  
“Lady Serena, will you take this man?”  
Serena manages to say with an assured voice:  
“I take this man”  
Rickard smiles and lets her arm go. Symbolically, she walks away from him to kneel with Stannis in front of the weirwood. She silently prays, thanking the gods for their generosity and, eyeing Stannis, she notices his eyes are closed. He knows he does not believe in the Seven since his parents death, and does not think he prays whoever right now. After a moment, Stannis stands up, places herself behind Serena and delicately takes her fur coat off, that he holds to Robert. He takes it and looks at Lyanna smiling. The young girl smiles back, but her mouth trembles a bit. Stannis takes off his own coat and covers Serena’s shoulders with it. She opens her eyes again when the young Baratheon gently squeezes her shoulders.   
She stands up again, they look at each other and her husband takes her in his arms. Serena ties her arms around him and buries her face in the crook of his neck.  
He takes her silently to her bedroom, where the servants have gotten the bed ready. He closes the door with his foot when they get in and Serena smiles at him. He places her down and, taking her face in his hands, he devours her with his eyes, not wanting, not being able to hide his feelings longer. Serena, her arms tied around his neck, smiles at him, letting her feelings show too, when she had repressed them for so long. Their lips united in a first shy kiss, then passionate, when both of them remember this only kiss shared years ago, this kiss Serena has felt guilty about for so long. But now, all guilt has disappeared. There is only passion, curbed for too long, that takes them both in feverish strokes, passionate kisses, and understandable clumsiness. Serena slightly laughs while she tries to undress Stannis:  
“Forgive me, I am not used to undress a man” She apologises before ending up taking his tunic stamped with the black stag off, and unbuttoning his white shirt.   
Stannis smiles tenderly, leaving the air that strokes his skin making him shiver. Innerly, he is scared to death with the idea of not knowing how to go about it the wrong way, to not give her pleasure. Already, while she offers him her back so he unties the laces that hold her dress back, he feels his sex hardening in his breeches. Her unlaced dress falls at her feet, and he stares at her back, her perfect skin, her perfect body, naked, before pulling her close and stroking her arms. His lips kiss her neck, and Serena indulges herself totally, abandons herself to her pleasure. After sweet strokes and words whispered in her ear, she turns to face him, and slides what’s left of his clothing off so he is naked too. Still a bit embarrassed, they kiss each other, Stannis guiding her to the bed. Serena lies doe , her black hair covering the white pillow, and she gasps with pleasure while Stannis lies on her, his hard sex against her belly, and runs his lips on her face, her neck, her breasts. She whimpers without holding it back when her husband’s lips close on her nipples, hardening in his mouth, and the young lady feels herself blushing. She wraps her muscled legs around Stannis, and runs her nails along his back, not marking him though. Impatient and excited, it is only when she makes him come up to her face that Stannis feels an hesitation and an apprehension. He gently strokes his wife’s hair:  
“I’m scared to hurt you...”  
He swallows hard: he knows what he has to do, but he does not know if he can do it.   
“I trust you” Serena smiles, not without feeling the exact same apprehension. Stannis nods, and placed his sex at her entrance. Serena nods slightly, and Stannis stares at her as he slowly gets in her. At the least sign of pain or discomfort, he stops, kisses her, lets her moan, whispers sweet words. For now, even he does not feel pleasure: he feels her body resisting his, and he knows her pain is real, annihilating every sexual pleasure. Very slowly, carefully, gently, he progresses. Serena relaxes, her body stops resisting him and, suddenly, he reaches the depth of her body. He allows himself to moan, not as loudly as Serena, but pleasure is now real, and overwhelms him with such a powerful wave he has to stop to not let it overwhelming him. He controls his arousal, his breathing, the bearings of her heart, and he deeply kisses Serena, whispering he loves her stroking the birth of her hair while his hips go back and forth against him, making her cry out. He looks at her a moment, confused, but she moves her hips, ordering him to go on.   
Serena has never thought her first time would be so pleasant. She has already heard the servants talk about it, many of them were telling about the pain, the embarrassment, few told about pleasure. Of course, when Stannis gets in her, pain is almost unbearable but he knows how to understand her moans, her cries. She feels like she is torn apart, and she closes her eyes, bites her lip to not yell, but her husband stops right there, and pain decreases. She does not know how much time he needs to deflower her completely, but a moment comes when, while their two naked bodies are covered in sweat, Stannis’ sex reaches for her deepest point and the moan that escape her mouth only show pleasure. She arched her back, her breasts hard against Stannis’ chest, and she leans her head back, Pleasure invading her like a powerful and uncontrollable wave. Stannis lips devour her, grab the skin of her neck, the tip of her breasts, her cheeks and her own lips, martyrising them with kisses. Serena answers them, digs her nails in her husband’s back, moving them down very slowly, marking him without making him bleed. While he uses his hands, grabbing the drenched sheets, to stand up and intensifying his movements, his wife takes the most of it to smother his muscled chest with kisses, wrapping her legs around his hips tighter. The bed freaks awfully loudly and Stannis belly slams faster and louder against Serena’s. Sometimes, for just a moment, Serena thinks he is too rough, that they are going to break this bed that has never known such things, but her pleasure intensifies again, and she cries out the name of her husband. She cannot take her eyes off him, wiping the sweat that threatens to fall in her eyes, and Stannis does the same, stroking the birth of his hair with a softness that contrasts with the violence of his thrusts. But the young man cannot do otherwise: he has always dreamt of this moment. He has never wanted another woman than Serena, and it was her he was thinking about when he started exploring his body. She is the one who has always haunted his thoughts during days, and who was visiting him at night, in his dreams.   
“I love you” he almost shouts, when Serena looks like she can not control herself now, her moans turning into yells. Stannis feels her body under his hardening and, around his sex, her inner walls tightening. He gasps with surprise and ecstasy, and he speeds up again, moaning in turn. Serena yells words he never thought that could get out of her mouth and he watches her, fascinated, when she reaches her peak. Stannis joins her quickly, his moan stifled by Serena’s, who shakes violently now, her body jolting. Stannis completely lies on her, to warm her up, and he gently kisses her, but Serena’s lips answer half-heartedly. He looks at her again, his face from where sweat beads and Serena, her eyes half closed, enjoys this moment, her fingers rubbing the back of his neck. She ends up opening her eyes again, and smiles at Stannis, strokes his cheeks with her thumb:  
“Thank you...” she whispers.  
He looks at her confused:  
“For What?”  
“For giving me.... a worthy first time” The young Stark chuckles and embraces her husband closely. Stannis feels himself reddening, and kisses her again.  
“My pleasure, my Lady” he says, making Serena giggle. “I will take the sheets out so servants can show them to your father.”  
Serena nods and sits up in her bed, a bit dizzy with pleasure. She cannot ignore the large blood stain that has dirtied the sheets but Stannis, already, takes them off, not looking shocked or disgusted. Not even dressing back up, he throws the sheets out of the room, when Serena washes her painful sex in a small tub filled with water, washing the blood that stained her thighs off. She feels fingers pushing her hand away and sees Stannis smiling at her, before replacing her. He carefully washes her, and she cannot take her eyes off her husband. Which other man in Westeros could do that? No one, she thinks. Ned, Maybe. When she is clean, he presses a towel against her, softly, as if he knew she was aching a bit, and that he did not want to intensify the pain. Then he takes her in his arms, and lays her on the fresh sheets. They kiss lengthily, stroking each other, and Serena ends up curling up, Stannis laying behind her, wrapping an arm around her.  
The following morning, Nan who knocks on the door to wake them up surprises Serena: she has not even felt herself falling asleep. Already, Stannis washes himself quickly and dresses up, Serena hurries to open the door when her husband is dressed up. Nan gets in, her eyes red with tears, knowing it is the last time she dresses and does her mistress hair.   
“I have found someone who could go with you in Storm’s End, my Lady, if my Lord your husband allows it” Nan curtseys in front of Stannis.  
“Of course” Stannis nods sliding his boots on and putting his tunic back on.   
“Who is it, Nan?” Serena inquiries.  
“Keynaa” she says and Serena nods.  
She is young, an orphan, who works hard and is very sweet to take care of Serena. It is a good choice. Stannis greets the two women and leaves the room, under Serena’s look. When they are alone, Nan smiles at her:  
“How was your first night, my Lady?”  
Serena feels herself blushing intently and stammers:  
“Very... very good, Nan, thanks for worrying about it”  
Nan laughs heartily:  
“I had no doubt about it, my Lady. No one does in the castle.”  
Serena stares at her:  
“By all the Gods.... Nan, what do you mean? You.... have... heard...”  
“Well, let’s say that the sleep of many of us has been bothered”  
Serena shouts with horror:  
“My father? My brothers?!”  
Nan just laughs and pats her shoulder:  
“Come on, don’t bother yourself. Everything is alright. You are ready, you need to meet your husband for the feast”  
Serena nods and stands up, joining Stannis. Everyone is already in the feast room, and they stand up seeing Stannis getting in, Serena holding his arm.  
“Ahah! Here they are, the newlyweds!!” Robert’s voice booms in the room.  
The men laugh and cheer, some hit their wooden tankard on the tables. Serena smiles and thanks, before sitting at the place of honour, the one usually for her father. She eats a lot, and Stannis looks at her with an amused look, stroking her hand or her thigh.  
Rickard looks at his daughter more favourably now. Sweeter, less demanding, less severe. It is her last day in Winterfell, and he must not ruin it. At his side, Ned cannot look away either, just like he could not look away from Ashara Dayne at the tourney. With the idea of losing his sister, he feels like someone is tearing away a pet of him.   
“Don’t worry” his father whispers. “Everything will be okay for her”  
“I know, Father. Stannis is a good and honourable man. But she is my twin, and I could not travel to Storm’s End as easily as I can to the Eyrie” the young Stark says. “By the Gods, I know she has to marry, that she has to leave, but how painful is this thought....”  
“I understand Ned” his father’s hand grabs the back of his neck and Ned falsely smiles. How could he understand? He has never known what it is to have siblings. Ned now looks at Brandon, Lyanna and Benjen. Lyanna too will leave soon. Another sister, married to another Baratheon. Benjen already talks about joining the Night’s Watch, one of them having convinced him when he was asking the present knights to join them, during the tourney. The last child won’t have any land to claim, and the Night’s watch is a prestigious institution in Westeros. Its members are respected. But becoming a sworn brother of the watch also means renouncing its family, marriage and children. Ned knows Rickard will also talk to Benjen about the cons, while the young boy only sees a way of becoming a glorious knight. He will still have Brandon, his elder brother, the future Lord of Winterfell. At least, he will not be alone. After a few hours, having drank way too much, he must leave the feast room and walks towards a quiet place to drain all this beer away. When he is alone, Serena joins him.  
“What are you doing here?” He groans trying to hide his sex from his sister’s eyes.  
“I need to talk to you. Quick. Don’t worry about this” she says noticing his gesture.  
“What is so urgent?” Ned worries.  
“It’s Lyanna. I have surprised her in Harrenhal. Do you remember this mysterious knight who defeated the ones who had bothered Lord Reed?” She asks.  
“Of course” Ned smiles thinking again about it. “He has disappeared all of a sudden”  
“He has not, it was Lyanna. Prince Rhaegar has left to look for this knight, and has discovered her. I have heard everything, Ned, I beg you to believe me. Rhaegar has seduced our sister. And she intends to marry him.”  
Ned snorts:  
“How could she? Rhaegar is married, his wife is fertile, she has proven it twice”  
Serena shakes her head:  
“I don’t know but I’m scared she makes a terrible mistake. You know her like I do, she never listens to anyone. But maybe if you talk to Father.... he will know how to reason with her, or he will haste her wedding with Robert”  
Ned looks at his sister, who sincerely looks worried. He promises to talk to their father. But he does not believe in this story. Lyanna does not know what she is talking about, and this story about queen of love and beauty has gone to her head, that’s all. He walks his sister back to the feast reassuring her.   
The feast ends up finishing, and the newlyweds have to leave now. Keynaa is waiting for her mistress, wrapped around Nan who cannot stop sobbing. Stannis gives his previous horse to Ned, and hugs him too, promising to take care of his sister. Then he bids farewell to Rickard, the one who has been like a second father to him. Stannis does not know who is the hardest to leave: his blood father or his brother. But, somehow, he takes both of them with him marrying Serena. The young bride is in tears now, while she hugs Benjen, Brandon, Lyanna more slightly and throws herself in Ned’s arms, sobbing harder than ever. Rickard is the one tearing them apart, knowing that, the more they wait, the hardest it will be. Eventually, she stops in front of her father, and curtseys, but Rickard takes her in his arms, whispers he loves her and pushes her away right after to her isabelline mare, Stannis’ wedding gift. She quickly gets on it, still astonished by her father’s words, and turns to greet all the ones who have had an impact in her life in Winterfell: maester Walys, Ser Rodrik, the servants, the blacksmith, the ostlers, little Walder, in Nan’s arms.... she greets them and watches them all, even when her horse follows Stannis’ one, and she looks at the kingsroad only when the castle has disappeared.   
Suddenly, the men supposed to protect Stannis shout: the horses rear, afraid, and the men unsheathe their swords. On the side of the road, on a rock, stands the dire wolf. Serena feels moved tears coming to her eyes.   
“Don’t hurt her” she orders the men. She gets off her horse, despite the men protesting. Stannis motions them to shut it and Serena walks to the She wolf, taking a piece of meat in her pocket.  
“I knew you would come” she whispers giving her the meat and burying her face in the sweet fur, smelling the wild and heady smell, the Northern smell. She joins her horse, and rides to her new home, accompanied by the howling of the she wolf.


	21. The war

Winterfell, 282 AC

Wearing a long cape that hides her body, and a big hood to hide her face, Lyanna leaves the castle following a hidden path she has discovered, taking care avoiding the guards. The moon is hazy on that night, turning darkness unfathomable. She starts running as soon as I can, towards the nearest inn. There, in the darkness, she sees a rider, and her heartbeats speed up. She whistles three times, and the rider turns his face towards her. He raises his hand, waving three signs, and she rushes on him. The rider takes his hood off, revealing silver hair, and purple eyes. He holds his hand at Lyanna, who takes it smiling, and he lifts her up on his horse before galloping away, Lyanna wrapping her arms around his waist. 

Storm’s End

Serena wakes up happy that morning, and has her breakfast in front of the sea. The sun is already shining bright, and the young lady enjoys feeling her skin warmed up. She loves her new home a little bit more with every day. Everyone has welcomed her nicely and respectfully, including Maester Cressen. The maid who came with her also appreciates the castle. “At least it is warm here” she told Serena the first times. However, weather in Storm’s End can change quickly, and suddenly. Sometimes, a shining sun radiates in the morning, and a storm breaks out in the afternoon. The first time she sees one, Stannis has to take her away from the window, Serena being fascinated by the phenomenon. Ocean appeals and terrifies her. She knows too well what ocean can give, and take back. The only person she does not like in Storm’s End is Patchface, a fool, the only survivor to the sinking of Lord Steffon’s ship. He scares her, singing weird songs, epileptic and shaking violently. Stannis wants to keep him, Serena thinks it is because this man reminds him of his parents.   
Someone knocks on her door and she makes the person come in. Stannis has already left, he always wakes up before her. Maester Cressen comes in, and holds at her a letter sealed with the Starks dire wolf.   
“Lady Baratheon” he bows before turning around, and finally looking back at her. “Do I need to examine you again, my Lady?”  
Serena sadly shakes her head:  
“Unfortunately, it will be useless. My moons showed up last night.”  
Cressen nods and leaves. On their way to Storm’s End, Stannis has asked her if she wanted to keep her birth name, or take his. The two houses being just as prestigious, and the Starks ruling the widest region of the realm, Serena could have kept her name. But the young woman has asked to take her husband’s name, and she has become Lady Serena Baratheon. At first, it has been hard for her to get used to it, but she has learnt to love this new name. However, she is worried of not being pregnant yet. It is not for want of trying, Stannis, just like her, being very enthusiastic but it just never works. She seems to be the only one worrying about it, Cressen and Stannis arguing she is still very young, and that she has time. Wiping her mouth with her napkin, she unseal the letter, and loses her smile reading the first words. When she is done reading, she grabs the parchment, and runs out, looking for Stannis. 

On the kingsroad

Brandon Stark, riding towards Riverrun to marry Lady Carleton Tully, blemishes reading the letter an envoy coming from Winterfell hands him. He crushes the parchment between his hands, and turns to the man:  
“You are going right now to Riverrun, and you will apologise towards Lord Tully for me.”  
He grabs a parchment, a quill, and writes hastily some words, leaning on his horse’s saddle. He seals the letter and hands it to the envoy:  
“Give him this letter. He will understand, he’s a reasonable man.”  
Branson gets back on his horse, and turns to his guards:  
“Friends! I have just received a message from my Lord father, warning me Prince Rhaegar has abducted my sister Lyanna. My house’s honour is stained. Come with me, I will find this wretch in the rathole where he’s hiding!”  
All the men cheer with excitement unseathing their swords, and Brandon gallops away, followed by his men. The envoy watches them leave, before leaving the road in turn, but towards Riverrun. 

Port Real

When Brandon Stark reaches the capital, the horses are exhausted. They leave them to the kingsguards, who also take their weapons. Brandon does not care. He just wants to know where his sister is, if she is alright, and that she comes back home with him. He walks towards the Red Keep, determined, but the doors don’t open. He shouts then:  
“Get out, Prince. Come and fight me, and answers for what you have done to my sister!!!”  
The doors remain close, and Brandon swears, accusing the prince of being a coward. While he is ready to get in the keep, the doors end up opening, slowly. Brandon gets ready to fight the prince, even with his bare hands, persuaded he can beat him, but it is not the prince who gets out: it is the king, tottering, but who laughs of Brandon’s folly. Immediately, he orders that Brandon and his companions are arrested. They are thrown into cells, uncertain about what the mad king is going to do to them. They do not know how long they remain locked, but, one day, all of Brandon’s friends get out of their cells. Brandon will never see them again: they are executed, with their fathers, who have joined them on the order of the king. Brandon does not know this, but on the same day, he is also dragged out of his cell, and taken in the throne’s room. He is surprised to see his father here, with chains. The king is on the throne, surrounded by a few members of the kingsguard. His voice shaky, but a mad light in his eyes, he claims:  
“You are accused of treason towards the crown. You will be judged for this crime”  
Richard Stark’s voice raises in the room:  
“I ask for a trial by combat”  
Aerys laughs, but accepts. Rickard’s chains are taken off, and he puts his armour on, wondering which knight of the guard the king is going to choose to fight him. But he notices none of the guards moves. He frowns and turns to the king. He knows it would be useless to reason him, and that Brandon has wanted to kill Rhaegar. The treason is proven. Aerys looks at him and smiles with cruelty:  
“The champion of my house is not a man, Lord Stark. It is fire. Fire and blood. Beat the fire, and you will be free to get back to this frozen and stinky hole you call ‘castle’”  
Rickard panics, and glances at Brandon. Under his eyes, his son has a cord around his neck, and one of the guards places a sword on the roof. The other guards place Rickard in an armour, and place him above a fire. Rickard yells, tries to free himself, and Brandon, despaired, tries to grab the sword hanging in front of him. The slipknot squeezes his throat and he knows he will not get out of the red keep alive. Despite it, he tries, reaching for the least air, almost reaches for the sword. He throws himself to it, and the cord squeezes his neck, again and again. His fingers brush the handle of the sword but, now, he cannot breathe anymore. He tries to keep his eyes open, but cannot, and his arm, so close from taking the sword, get back down his lifeless body. Aerys bursts out laughing, and watches Rickard burning alive. Until the very end, the lord yells, and it is only when the silence reaches the room that the guards know it is the end.   
“Well” the king says, “I will pay a visit to my queen” he stands up, and leaves the room stinking burned skin whistling. 

Storm’s End 

Serena huddled against Stannis, tears running on her face, her body shattered with violent sobs. At her feet, the parchment telling her about the death of her father and her brother. Serena does not weep her father: she has told Ned to warn him Lyanna will do something stupid, and her predictions have happened. No, she weeps her older brother, she weeps Brandon, so young, so handsome, so strong. She remembers their moments together, she remembers all these times when he has thrown her into the air, so high she thought she could touch the clouds. She remembers those horse races, playing hide and seek, his bright eyes, his loud laugh, his joy of life. She also remembers her wedding’s feast, not so long ago: the happiness they were all sharing, for once. And now, nothing anymore. Lyanna vanished, Ned at the Eyrie, Brandon and her father executed. She feels awfully guilty: maybe she should have warned her father herself, instead of sending Ned. But, after all, would it have mattered? Her father would not have believed her, she knows it. Stannis cannot stop comforting her, stroking her hair, solacing her. Cressen gets in again with a new letter: news reach them little by little. Stannis opens and reads this one: Serena cannot. The king is now claiming for Ned and Robert’s heads: one being the Starks heir, the other Lyanna’s betrothed. Jon Arryn has refused, and has called for his bannermen. Westeros is officially entering a civil war. All the bannermen will not follow their overlords. There will be treasons, bloody battles, submissions, forgiveness - or not.   
The first battles occur in the Vale, to control Gulltown, an harbour whose position is crucial so Robert and Ned can join their home, to call their bannermen. Ned, impatient, does not wait for their victory and reaches Winterfell through the Three sisters, and White Harbour. When Robert reaches for Storm’s End, Serena knows their future is at stake: numerous bannermen answer their Lord’s call, but some want to remain loyal to the crown, and Robert is compelled to fight them to submit them. At the frontier of the Stormalnds, Dorne and the Reach, he defeats three different armies in a single day then, aiming to join and unite all the rebel forces, he leaves Storm’s End, leaving the commandment to Stannis. The young Baratheon is honoured by his brother’s thrust: he is still very young, but Robert knows his aptitude as a military strategist. Storm’s End is a stronghold almost impregnable, only at the cost of thousands of lives.   
In the capital, Young Jon Connington, great friend of Rhaegar, is named hand of the King instead of Ser Owen Merryweather, accused of not having realised how dangerous the rebels were. The rebels must know rally Lord Tully, to enjoy the Riverlands ideal position. For now, Hoster Tully and Tywin Lannister have not taken a side yet. While negotiating, Eddard proposes to marry Catelyn Tully, who was betrothed to his brother Brandon, and Jon Arryn, without an heir, asks for Luda Tully’s Hand. Hoster accepts, and the Riverlands forces join the rebels. While Robert tries to drag away the loyalist forces from his frontiers attacking Ashford, in the Tyrells lands remained loyal to the King, Lord Randyll Tarly attacks him from the rear and defeats him. The King then orders Mace Tyrell to take Storm’s End.   
While Stannis is organising the défense of the castle, protecting the population, the Reach’s armies walk on the fortress. Mace wants to take the castle, but changes his mind and decides to organise a blocus, thanks to his army and Mathis Rowan’s on land, and Lord Redwyne’s fleet on the sea. A morning, while Serena wakes up, she sees the enemies flags at their door, and Stannis quickly places her in safety, fearing the archers. He soon realised an attack on the city is not foreseen, and that the Tyrell’s soldiers are installing their camps quietly. Climbing and walking down the stairs, he shouts different orders: quantifying, rationing, protecting food. In Serena’s bedroom, Keynaa cries with anguish in her arms, and the young lady tries to reassure her, but she is terrified herself. Renly stares at the soldiers running everywhere speechless, his scared eyes staring at them.   
In the evening, Stannis father’s them in his office: he explains them the situation, the siege starting and the fact he cannot know how long it will last. Then, his eyes hard, determined, he explains he will never give the fortress up, even if it means they would all die. They all agree, and he orders them to go get some rest. Serena waits for him on this night, but he joins her only at dawn, and leaves again an hour later. Frowning, he stares at the men besieging him, determined to keep the promise he has made to his older brother. Robert wants Stannis to hold Storm’s End, and Stannis will hold it.


	22. Besieged

Storm’s End, 282 AC

Stannis’ forces have now been besieged for four months, and they start running out of food quickly. Despite the strict rationing Stannis has imposed, it seems obvious that backups will not raise for the castle before it starves. It is now an emergency for Stannis to decide what to do to feed his soldiers and his family. He relies a lot on Cressen, on his experience and his wisdom. The maester proposes to kill the horses: their food is running out as well, and Stannis cannot feed them with vegetables and fruits that could make the soldiers hold on. He thus decided to slaughter Storm’s End’s horses, one by one, letting the butcher prepare the meat to keep it for even more difficult days. Although, he chooses to go to the stables, to choose the weakest beast, to put him to sleep. He is not surprised to find Serena here. The young lady stands before the mare he has offered her as a wedding gift, and gently stroked her head. Stannis forces himself to smile, and places his hand on his wife’s shoulder to warn her he is here. Serena looks at him with a smile and, while her hand keeps stroking the mare’s head, she whispers:  
“My moons have not come”  
Stannis suddenly blemishes and stares at his young wife.  
“Have you seen Cressen? For how long have you not bled?”  
Serena shakes her head slowly:  
“Cressen is way too busy with the soldiers. I don’t want to bother him with this. I heard, sometimes, hunger made moons disappear for a time.”  
Stannis takes her hand in his, and presses it firmly:  
“I want you to see our maester. It is very important that I know if you are with child, or not. We are going to run out of food, Serena, and the backups do not look like they are coming to help us. If you are with child, you will have to rest as much as possible, and to eat more than the others.”  
Serena squeezes her husband’s hand back, stares back at his eyes:  
“What are we going to eat if we don’t have food anymore?”  
Stannis does not answer, but turns his head to the stables. Serena looks at him, thinking for a moment that he is kidding, before realising he is not. She knows the situation, she can see the stock disappearing into thin air. She cannot defend her horses’ lives: they are useless here, in the castle. They cannot try to assault the Tyrells. They will starve here, anyways: their meat will allow them to survive all. She turns to Stannis, though, and begs:  
“Please, don’t kill Storm and Dune! Please Stannis, spare them!!”  
Stannis wants to refuse, and to tell her how things are, but he is not brave enough to do so. His wife beating their child turn things different: he knows Serena must avoid stress, while the situation is stressful enough. He gives her a sweet smile, and nods:  
“Do not worry for them, I will take them out this night and I’m sure they will be able to live in the forests. I promise you”  
Serena smiles back at him, and lays a long kiss on Dune’s head before walking back to the castle. The mare nuzzles Stannis’ hand and he looks at her, stroking in turn her head and her neck. He cannot deprive his men from this meat, but he does not feel like he could tell Serena.   
The young lady of Storm’s End watches the maester anxiously, while he is examining her conscientiously. After long silent minutes, Cressen looks up at his mistress, and smiles, almost sadly:  
“Yes, you are expecting, my Lady.”  
Serena would like to feel the happiness every woman would feel with these news, but she can’t. She could not fear for a worst moment to welcome a child. But what can she do about it? She has to take care of herself now, of this little being growing up inside her. She nods, and Cressen advices her about the best way to live this pregnancy. When he lets her go, she immediately joins Stannis to tell him. Strangely enough, the young Lord looks way more enthusiastic about the pregnancy, and even the soldiers congratulate Serena with huge smiles when they tell them: she does not know if they are happy because they think they will be freed soon, or if, for these men so used to live with death, the idea of watching a new life being born cheer them up. Renly, Stannis’ little brother, is also very happy about the news, tenderly embracing Serena: the poor child has barely known his mother, and has straightway considered Serena as the maternal figure he had always missed. From now on, everyone takes care of Stannis’ wife. She very quickly has to stay in bed, the least effort being way too dangerous for her and for the baby.   
Days, weeks, months pass by and no help comes. Men start to despair, some even talk about deserting. Others do it. When the last pieces of horse meat are shared between the men, and that Stannis keeps the best part for Serena, Cressen comes to see him: Ser Gawen Wylde and three other knights have been arrested by the guards while they were trying to escape the castle. Stannis reacts very badly to this treason, Ser Wylde being Storm’s End master at arms. The you g Lord promises to fulfil their wish, and to send them to the Tyrells thanks to a catapult. The men beg, but Stannis remain inflexible, until Cressen explains him good meat should not be wasted, knowing their situation. Stannis is disgusted by the maester’s idea, but has to admit he is right. The four men are sent to the cells, and will be feed as the last of everyone, and with the worst pieces.   
In the castle, sticked inside with Renly, who gets weaker with each day, Serena occupies her mind the best she can. She has sewed until a few days ago but now, hunger makes her shake so violently that she could hurt herself if she would have kept going. So, most of the time, she sleeps, with Renly’s body sticked to hers, or she reads him stories, finding books to awake his curiosity in Storm’s End library. She often chooses the most fantastic stories, to let his spirit fly away, as his body can’t. She fears for the young boy’s life, and wakes up several times a night to check if he is still breathing. She still shares her bed with Stannis, but Renly is with them. At first, Stannis has been violently opposed to this but, strangely enough, hunger makes them cold and the only way to get warm is to sleep all against each other. Stannis argues their bed is a marriage bed, but nothing happens here now Serena has told him about her pregnancy. They do not think about sex anymore, they only think about surviving, and that is the only priority. Serena’s baby grows up, but she is very worried about him. Her belly does not show, and she can read worry in Cressen’s eyes every time he examines her. She fears for her child’s life every day, and each day over sounds like a new victory. They have no news from Robert, nor Ned. They only know they are alive, because Lord Tyrell would not miss the occasion to warn his besieged to his brother’s or brother in law’s death. But they seem alone in this world, stuck in this noose, dying slowly. The weakest men die, and Stannis resolves himself to keep their bodies, as a last resort, he tells Cressen. For him, cannibalism is one of the worst abominations he can imagine. He does not even feel able to eat human flesh, even tho it would be the last eatable thing in the castle.   
When the horses have been totally eaten, Stannis decides to have the cats killed: not able to foresee when and especially if the siege will be over one day, Stannis wants to keep the dogs alive, in case Lord Tyrell would attack, and killing the cats would allow rats to proliferate, giving a pool of meat.   
As Renly and Serena do not leave the bedroom anymore, Stannis does not tell them what kind of meat he brings them. He has now rationed meat, allowing the men to eat only once a day. His family is not spared, even Serena, but her pieces are bigger. He would have never thought cat meat would taste like rabbit. Their meat last for a few weeks, then he has the dogs killed, which have started to eat the rats. Then again, meat lasts for a time, but not long enough. The rats are the last animals of Storm’s End to be killed by men. And then, the men whisper between themselves, what shall we eat? The four prisoners who rot in the cells are dying. Cressen finds two bodies while going to feed them on a morning. The men try to survive chewing on dead leaves, drinking rainwater, but, soon, it is not enough anymore. One of them has the idea of boiling his boots: the leather that makes them is just animal skin, after all. He chews on the leather, tired, leaning on the castle wall. Soon, everyone imitates him, even Stannis. The Lord is one of the last ones able to stand up, to be strong enough to do so but he must do it. He is responsible for all these men, and, even if his legs are shaky, he goes from one man to another, cheering them up, congratulating them for their tenacity, telling them how much he admires them. Each of these words is sincere: despite their hunger, their thirst, they have repelled each of Lord Tyrell’s assault, and he got tired after a while, and has stopped attacking the castle for a while. During one of these attacks, Storm’s End’s blacksmith, Donal Noye, has been badly injured on his arm, and Stannis has to cut his arm off. This war, this siege are going to Mark them forever, Stannis is sure of that. They will be stronger after, just like him. Sometimes, when the castle is still asleep, when the sun rises and that he is the only one to see it, he turns to his wife, asleep in their bed, and strokes her round bump. He can feel his child moving under his hands, as if he was looking for his father’s contact. Then, he could almost forget they are at war. But he cannot ignore his wife’s scrawny body, his brother’s, who is just a boy. Will he ever forgive him for making him suffer that much? He should have make him leave, but to go where? He couldn’t have trusted anyone. One of his vassals could have abduct him and give him to the king if he would have wanted. No, he did not have a choice: he had to keep his family with him. Stannis suffers a lot too. He has lost half of his weight, each of his bone seems ready to pierce through his skin. But he holds on, as he has promised a Robert.   
The castle is silent on this day: the least effort seems awful to the men so they move and talk as less as possible. Even Stannis, today, looks ready to give up. Yesterday, a man has begged him for death, hunger giving his eyes a light of madness. Stannis could not resolve himself to kill him, even knowing he would not survive. Later, they have found his body, curled up on the ground. Sitting on an old wooden cask. The young Lord tries to recover some strength, even though he does not remember what this word means. Suddenly, a whisper runs through the men. Stannis vaguely hears men whispering and two soldiers walk to him, stumbling on their shaky legs: they have been charged to check on Lors Redwyne’s fleet.   
“My Lord, you have to see something” the strongest of them manages to say.  
Stannis raises with difficulties: he would like to lie down, to close his eyes and to sleep. But he knows that if he does this, his body will never wake up. He is too weak now, and sleep terrifies him. His legs seem to walk as automatons, his feet look like they weigh a hundred kilos each, he has so much pain moving them. Not knowing how, he manages to follow the soldiers, who lead him to a boat and, on the quay, stands a man barely older than him. He bows before him, pointing at his boat:  
“My Lord, I have escaped the Redwynes to bring food to your men”  
“Your name?” Stannis asks with his firmest voice.   
“Davos, my Lord” the man answers. “Just Davos” he precises.  
Stannis walks to the boat and stares at what’s in: salted fish, oignons, potatoes. Enough to hold for another few weeks, if the food is rationed. Maybe a few months. Stannis knows he will have to be very careful about his men’s reaction when they will know help finally came to them.   
“What are you, Davos? A smuggler?” The Lord asks.   
Davos hesitates for a moment: he perfectly knows smuggling is a crime in Westeros.  
“Answer me” Stannis orders with a strong voice.   
Davos simply nods:  
“I have a family to feed, my Lord. The whole realm knows your suffering, and I knew you would pay me enough for this food.”  
“It will save our lives, Davos. I must say I am admirative of your skill to go through the enemy’s lines. Thus, I will not execute you, I will not send you to the Night’s Watch for your crimes.”  
Davos feel like the ground disappear under his feet: he has heard about Stannis inflexibility, but he did not think it was to that point.   
“What are you going to do to me, my Lord he asks.  
Stannis stares at his eyes:   
“For your bravery, I will make you a knight, and give you lands on Capewrath. I only ask you two things for this”  
Davos hardly believes in his luck: to be knighted is an honour he could have never dreamt of.   
“What are they?” He asks again.  
“Your loyalty, and the phalanxes of your left hand. It is the price I am asking for your past as a smuggler. If you accept, you will have to choose a name for your newly born House.”  
Davos feels himself slowly kneeling in front of him:  
“I accept, my Lord. But I ask you to cut them yourself.”  
Stannis nods, but before everything, makes food coming in the castle. Once every man has eaten, the best meal they had for months, that Stannis has fed his wife and brother, and that himself slowly swallows this food, enjoying the delicious meal Storm’s End’s cook has prepared, he joins Davos, and the smuggler takes his left glove off, places his hand on a wooden log. Stannis takes a chopper, and cuts the first phalanxes, with a clear and only cut. Davos yells with pain, and Stannis gives him to Maester Cressen, to heal him. Once he feels better, he lays his sword on Davos’ shoulders and makes him Ser Davos Seaworth, Lord of Cape Wrath, 

King’s Landing

Tywin Lannister stands in front of the town’s doors, leading 10,000 men. The war is over: Prince Rhaegar has been killed by Lord Robert Baratheon at the Trident’s battle, and Ned Stark is walking on the town with the whole rebel army. Tywin knows the king needs men and that, in his madness, he still believes he can win this war. He asks to enter the city, claiming his loyalty to the king. The doors do not open right away, but they still do. Lord Tywin turns to his soldiers, to whom he has given precise instructions. He tells them they can enter the town and they rush in yelling. Tywin does not know if Aerys has understood. On his horse, he walks through the city, until the red keep. He can see his soldiers slaughtering the people, burning the houses, he hears the women begging for their children’s lives, the men trying to resist, and being immediately killed. Tywin has never forgotten the insult from the king, whom he thought was a friend: the refusal to marry his son to Tywin’s daughter, making Jaime getting in the Kingsguard, and so many other humiliations he had to bear. Now, he can avenge on the people of King’s Landing, before he does so on the Targaryens.   
Ned follows Tywin’s forces and enters in turn in the city. He is horrified by what he sees: the civilians are innocent from Aerys’ crimes but it is too late. He rushes to the red keep, and gets in the hall, finding Ser Jaime Lannister, the one who should have married his sister, sitting on the iron throne. Aerys body lays at his feet, a huge blood stain in his back, Jaime’s laugh rings out in the empty room:  
“Don’t worry, Lord Stark, I have only kept the spot for your friend Robert” the knight says standing from the throne. He leaves the room with Tywin, and Ned watches them leave, unable to say a word. Robert arrives a few moments later: injured by Rhaegar at the battle of the Trident, he could not have come with the first men. Jon Arryn is with him and Ned shows them the lifeless body of the king.   
“Ser Jaime Lannister has killed Aerys” he explains. “He has killed his king, Robert. He deserves to be sent to the wall.”  
Jon slowly shakes his head:  
“Lord Tywin has chosen his side. He has chosen our side. We cannot allow ourselves to have the Lannister’s as enemies.” He turns to Robert:  
“Forgive Jaime. Keep him by your side, to watch over him. And I think you should marry Cersei Lannister. It will only strengthen your alliance with the Lannisters.”  
Robert is about to answer when the Lannisters come back in the room, and that two of their men are holding bodies wrapped in red and gold cloaks. What is this, Ned wonders. He feels he is living a nightmare: this is not how he wanted to win the war. The men lays the little bodies at Robert’s feet, who moves the cloaks away. Everyone, except those men, gasp with shock, and with horror: the two little faces are the ones of Rhaegar and Elia’s children. The little girl was only two years old, and her body has been stabbed dozens and dozens of times. Her eyes are still wide opened and Ned can still read the terror. The baby’s body by her is unrecognisable, his skull has been crashed. Ned looks at Robert, not believing his best friend could have ordered this king of things. Robert is pale as death as he watches the two lifeless bodies. Is he thinking about his little Mya, now? Ned looks up at Tywin, who slightly smiles. Thus, he is the one who ordered this massacre. How could it be useful? The war was already won. Elia could have been exiled in Dorne, his children sent to the silent sisters or to the Citadel to become a maester. It was useless to kill such young children. Ned asks the two men where is the mother of the children. The men look at each other, and laugh, before one of them, Gregor Clegane, say he has killed the princess. Ned looks at Robert, horrified once more, but the new king do not look like he can react to this. He ends up pulling Jon and Ned in a room to talk between themselves:  
“You cannot ignore these awful crimes” Ned gets angry. Jon remains silent, and Ned does not understand the old man’s behaviour, whom he thought noble and fair.   
“As I already said” Jon repeats, “an alliance with the Lannisters is crucial for your reign, Robert. Forgive them, marry Cersei, it is the best thing you can do”  
Ned sees his friend nodding, and curses, before leaving the room quickly. The booming voice of Robert asks him where he is going. Ned, without turning around, shouts in turn:  
“I am going to free your brother, and my sister!”  
He gathers his men, and immediately leaves for Storm’s End. When he reaches for the castle, he can see Lord Tyrell’s armies in front of it. He is sure they are aware of Rhaegar’s death, and of King’s Landing fall. The Stark banners fluttering in the wind, he gallops fast, and stops in front of Lord Tyrell. There is no battle, no blood shed. The Tyrells know the war is over, and bow to the new king. Lord Stark asks for the doors to open and Stannis walks out as the first one, holding Serena in his arms. The poor young girl has lost so much weight his brother barely recognises her. However, he cannot miss the bump and, while he takes her in his arms to ease Stannis, he cannot help blaming him:  
“Stannis, you knocked her up? When you were besieged?!”  
Stannis has not even the strength to retort. He falls in the first soldier’s arms and Ned realises how weak his army is. Every man is only skin and bones and Renly, in Cressen’s arms, is close to death. Ned curses himself for his words, and lets his soldiers taking care of the garnison, feeding them and giving them water. He stays a bit with his sister, but the young woman is unconscious. While he gets back on his horse, Stannis asks him why he is leaving:  
“I’ve saved my sister” Ned looks at him. “But I have another one.”


	23. Promises kept

Dorne, 283 AC

After riding for hundred of miles, and interrogating dozens of people, Ned ends up finding out where Lyanna is hidden. But she is not alone: Rhaegar has left with her his best guards. Ned and his fellows fight them, and win, but the fight costs them their lives. Only Ned and Howland Reed, one of his closest friends, the one whose honour has been defended at the tourney of Harrenhal, survive. Ned rushes into the tower, calling for his sister. He can hear moans, in one of the rooms, and knocks the door down. The smell of blood makes him sick: he needs a moment to realise what is going on here. His sister is laid in a bed, still. Some women are with her and cry with fear when they see Ned. He doesn’t even look at them, he rushes on his sister.   
“Lyanna! Lyanna, can you hear me?” He asks.   
His sister slowly opens her eyes, and smiles wide at him despite her pain.  
“Ned...” she whispers weakly.   
“Yes, I’m here. I’m gonna take you back home. Everything is fine now, it’s over...” Ned feels tears running on his cheeks.  
Lyanna strokes his cheek softly:  
“You cannot save me, brother” she takes his hand and places it on her belly.   
He gives her an inquiring look, and feels one of the women walking to him. He turns around and sees a baby in her arms. He looks at Lyanna and, while the unknown woman places the baby in the crooks of his arms, he thinks again about poor little Aegon, and Rhaenys. Her murderer was joking saying he had found her under her father’s bed, Rhaegar, as if she was expecting him to protect her. Did she cry out when he had pulled her feet? Did she beg when she has seen the blade? Did she cry for her father, when he had stabbed her, again and again and again? When did life leave her? With the first strike? The fifth? The tenth? She is dead now, and that is the only thing that matters. An innocent child, just like her brother, just like this baby he is holding clumsily in his arms.   
“Rhaegar...” Lyanna’s weak voice calls. “Where is Rhaegar?”  
Thus, everything the people have believed has been wrong: there has never been any abduction, nor rape. They were loving each other. Ned nibbles his lip, but doesn’t know if he can answer. If he can tell her the truth. Lyanna does not need words: she can read in her brother’s eyes like an open book. She bursts out crying, and Ned looks for words to solace her from her lover’s death.   
“I am sorry” she sobs.  
“No.... no...” Ned stammers.  
“It’s my fault.... all these dead.... Father... Brandon.... forgive me Ned... I have been stupid.... so stupid.... promise me....” she seems having trouble breathing and Ned, panicking, reassures her as he can.  
“I forgive you Lyanna, I forgive you”  
She calms down and eyes the baby:  
“Promise me to take care of him... Jaehaerys.... to protect him.... Robert... promise me Ned and.... and Serena.... promise me.... bring me back home.... promise me...”  
Her words don’t make any sense anymore, her look turns erratic. Ned promises, so her end is sweet. He promises to treat this child as his own son, he promises to protect him from Robert, and from his other enemies, he promises to tell him who his parents are, when the day comes, he promises to tell him how much his parents loved him. When he has promised all this, he watches Lyanna giving up, peacefully, without pain. He weeps then, for a long time, before wrapping her in clean sheets and walking down the stairs of the tower, tears running on his cheeks, loud sobs ringing out between the walls. He joins Howland, who has buried the brave soldiers who have given their lives to protect Lyanna, and the ones who have given their lives to free her. Lord Reed remains silent, and helps Ned getting Lyanna’s body ready to bring her back home, in Winterfell, with their parents and their brother.

Storm’s End

Holding her newborn in her arms, Serena lightens up her face with a huge grin when she sees the Stark banners floating distantly. Two riders are getting close from the castle, galloping, and Serena soon réalisés her brother is one of them. She calls out at him, overjoyed to see again this beloved brother. He has left very quickly after freeing them from the siege, and she has been weak for a long time because of the war’s deprivations. Stannis too has not have much respite: only a few weeks after the siege was over, and while Serena was about to give birth, he has to leave for King’s Landing. Cressen delivered Serena’s son, and she is waiting now for her husband’s return. While the riders get in the castle’s courtyard, Serena’s joyful cries turn into desperate yells when she sees the body her brother has with him. She knows who is wrapped in this shroud, and holds onto Ned when he gets down from his horse. The young Lord lets sorrow overwhelming him again, and Serena orders her servants to take care of their hosts.   
Later, after they have shared a silent and frugal meal, Serena joins Ned in his room, holding her son in her arms. Ned is on his bed, stroking the little hand of his nephew, wondering which story he can invent to protect him. Serena smiles slightly, and lies her own son asleep alongside the other baby. Ned looks up at her:  
“They are handsome, are they not?” she whispers to not wake them up.   
Ned nods but cannot ignore the puny and unhealthy look of Serena’s child. He can see this baby will not survive. The siege would have been more deadly than expected. Soon before dinner, he has seen Serena feeding him, and the child is so weak he almost cannot suckle.   
“What’s his name?” He ends up asking.  
“I have not fou d yet. I am waiting for Stannis to come back to choose one” Serena smiles. “And this one?” She points at Lyanna’s baby.   
“Lyanna has given him a Targaryen’s name, but I think I’ll call him Jon”, Ned smiles again. “After Jon Arryn” he precise.   
“It’s a beautiful tribute” she kisses her twin’s brow before sitting down by his side. “And what are you gonna say? To Catelyn?”  
Ned loudly sighs: he has no idea, and sadly shakes his head. The baby is beautiful, but doesn’t look like a Targaryen at all. He has the Starks’ black hair and his eyes look like they will be grey, like Ned.   
“Can I sleep by your side?” Serena whispers. Ned nods, too tired to protest. They go to bed the , the two babies between the two twins, and they soon join them in their dreams.   
Lactation awakens Serena, and she touches her breasts sighing. Opening her eyes, she looks at her son, his eyes wide opened as well. She smiles, places her naked breasts by his lips, but the child does not move. He does not react, does not close his lips on her nipple. But he is awaken, Serena thinks frowning. She takes him in her arms: arms, hands, head, everything is lifeless. In the baby’s eyes, all life light has disappeared. Serena opens her mouth to yell, but a hand presses against it, and arms wrap around her. Ned has woken up, and has immediately understood that the child was dead. Serena sobs, whispers against her brother, holding her baby in her arms. She presses him against her chest, trying to give his life back. What has she done to the Gods that she endures so much suffering? Ned strokes her hair, softly rocks her and, suddenly, sees in this tragedy an opportunity. He makes his sister look up at him:  
“Take Jon”  
“Wh-what?!” Serena sniffles moving away from him.  
“Please Serena.... take this child. He is your blood, as much as he is mine. Look at him, sister: he can easily pretend like he’s yours. The servants do not know your baby, Stannis has not seen him being born.”  
Serena’s eyes go from her child to Jon, still peacefully asleep.   
“It’s.... everything is Lyanna’s fault.... Father has not believed you, and he’s dead! Brandon is dead! I almost died, Ned! Because of her! And you’re asking me to raise this child?! A bastard, born from an adultery?!” She shouts.   
Ned looks at her, and shakes his head:  
“If I leave to Winterfell with him, he will have a bastard’s life. Here, he will be the son of a Lord. This child is innocent, Serena. Just like your son was. Please, for the love that binds us, you and me, save this child. For all of those we could not save, for our brother. He is a Stark, Serena. He will always be one.”  
Ned’s words touch Serena, she cannot deny it. She knows he is right.  
“No” she firmly replies. Ned feels his heart breaking. “He’s a Baratheon” she adds staring at her brother’s grey eyes. Ned closely embraces her, and closes his eyes, sighing with relief.   
“Thank you” he whispers.   
“Please, bury my child with our sister” she says, and Ned nods sadly. While she puts her baby back down and that she places the sheet on his face, Jon wakes up, and her breasts painfully straighten when he starts crying. She cries too, while she feeds him. He vigorously suckles, and his eyes meet the ones of the one who has just become his mother.   
Ned and Serena agree on what they will say: Howland and him have to go this morning. He takes with him the lifeless baby, and will pretend he’s the baby with whom he has arrived. He will not need to lie saying it’s his bastard, he will say Lyanna and his baby have not survived the delivery. Serena’s baby is so frail he could easily be confused with a newborn. They discreetly leave the castle, soon after dawn, and Serena remains alone, holding Jon in her arms. When she sees the horses disappearing away, she gets back in the castle, and writes a long letter to Stannis. She confides in him about the news from Lyanna’s death, and her sorrow, but the tears that stain the parchment are for her son, and not for her sister. She also quickly writes that she has decided to give the name of Jon to their son, and asks him if he agrees. She sends the letter and passes by Cressen at the aviary. He smiles at her: he has been too very close to death during the siege, and even after. Stannis has remained by his side until it was sure he would make it.   
“How is our young Lord?” The maester asks Serena.  
“Very well” she replies, trying to look happy. She will need time to see Jon’s face when someone talks to her about her child, and not her own son’s.   
“I will have to see him to be sure”  
Serena feels blood leaving her face and she shakes her head:  
“He is very tired. I want him to be left alone, at least until my husband comes back. I take good care of him” she defends herself maybe too virulently, because Cressen frowns in front of her reaction. She ignores the maester, who ends up leaving, and she has a crow bearing her message to King’s Landing.   
Stannis joins his wife, his child and his little brother in a fortnight. Renly welcomes him with yells of joy, and Serena watches them with emotion, holding an asleep Jon in her arms. She laughs with Renly when Stannis raises him high in the sky: this castle has known so many tragedies that hearing laughs instead of cries is good for all of his inhabitants. Then the you g man, still holding Renly, walks towards his wife, his eyes staring at the little being she is holding against her breast. Serena moves the fabric in which the baby is wrapped away so that Stannis can see him better. The love and the absolute happiness she can read in his eyes shatter her: she hates herself for lying to him. He asks her if he can hold him, his voice strangled with emotion, and Serena kisses him suddenly, deeply, making Renly groaning with disgust. She laughs, and places Jon in the crook of Stannis’ arms.   
“I love you” he whispers to the baby, before laying a sweet kiss on his brow. “I love you both” he looks at Serena who smiles at him. He wraps his free arm around her shoulders, and gets back to the castle with her, the baby, and Renly.   
At nightfall, after he has out Renly to bed, Stannis joins his wife in their bedroom. She is lying down, naked, feeding Jon. He observes then for a moment, before undressing in turn. The siege’s marks have been long before disappearing: they are still underweight, but they are way stronger than before. Their ribs are still visible under their skin, but the faces are no longer emaciated. Sliding under the sheets, Stannis leans on his elbow to watch the baby suckling. He moves his hand to stroke the round cheek.  
“Robert wants me to build a new fleet” he announces. Serena turns to him:  
“What for?”  
Stannis sighs:  
“He wants me to take Dragonstone. Rhaella is there with Viserys. Robert wants to exterminate then, until the last one.”  
Serena hardly swallows looking at Jon:  
“Why does it have to be you? Have you not suffered enough because of him?” She stands you to put Jon back in his crib, by her side, before laying down at her husband’s side again. Stannis looks at her and runs a finger alongside her arm:  
“He says it will be his wedding gift”  
“That’s true” Serena groans. She has almost forgotten Robert’s wedding with Cersei. She softly moans when Stannis lips run over her neck.   
“I have missed you, my love” he whispers between two kisses.  
“I have missed you too” she kisses his hair, and eyes Jon. “Stannis, the baby...” she weakly protests. They have not been intimate since the siege, and her desire for her husband has exploded. Stannis moves the crib away to hide the baby’s body, and lies on his wife. Serena relaxes, and wraps around him, arms and legs, forgetting herself and abandoning herself totally to pleasure that pierce her when her husband thrusts into her. When they cuddle after, Serena wonders if they will ever know peaceful times. The Targaryen forces could never win against Stannis’ ones, but no one can foresee the dead of a battle. The lady of Storm’s End presses her body against Stannis’ and falls asleep, exhausted, worried but happy, despite all.


	24. Dragonstone

King’s Landing, 284 AC

“They have what?! Say it again!” The strong voice of Robert hits Stannis as lightning would hit a tree. The young Lord stares, trying to remain dignified and straight: he stands in the middle of the throne room, surrounded by Robert’s court. He can hear muffled laughs, and sees himself again, a little boy scared of his older brother. But Stannis is now a man, and he is not scared of Robert anymore. With a calm but firm voice, he repeats, obedient:  
“We have taken Dragonstone. But Ser Willem Darry has managed to smuggle Viserys and the baby out.”  
“Really? I thought you were the one who was appealing to smugglers?” Cersei’s voice rings out in turn. She is not a queen yet, but already acts as one. Robert turns to her suddenly:  
“Silence, woman!”  
Stannis stares at the beautiful blonde with a cold look: the whole kingdom mocks Ser Davos and though, he is way braver and righteous than all this hypocritical Lords who kowtow to Robert. The king turns back to his brother and dryly says:  
“You have taken Dragonstone, keep it. It is my gift, for everything you’ve been through in Storm’s End.”  
Stannis feels himself blemishing, and new giggles can be heard. He is decided to defend himself though:  
“You are the king now, Robert. Storm’s End is mine, as your younger brother.”  
“You are my heir Stannis, as long as I don’t have a son. Do I have to remind you of Maester Cressen’s lessons? The symbol that is Dragonstone?”  
Stannis feels tears coming, but shakes his head. He knows Robert is right: since always, Dragonstone is the home of the heir to the throne. But he knows his brother, his tricks and his deceit. Stannis cannot accept his proposal without thinking Robert wants to punish him, because of Aerys’ children’s flight. He watches Robert walking to him, handsome in his yellow and black clothes, the stag proudly embroidered on his large chest.  
“Come on Stannis, Chase this sadness away. Go home, make love to your wife, insult me, curse me if that makes you feel better. It’s been long since I’ve been cursed.”  
He has said the last words quietly, so Stannis alone can hear, then he takes a few steps away and takes his strong voice back again:  
“Go now. I’ll see you at my wedding.”  
Leaving the room with long strides, hearing the laughs and the shouts of Robert asking for silence, Stannis leaves the capital as fast as he can. While he gets back to Storm’s End, for the last time, he wonders how his little brother is going to react. Harbert, their great uncle, is dead since a few weeks and it’s Cortnay Pentrose who will become Renly’s castellan, and governor of Storm’s End, until this one will be old and mature enough to reign over the ancestral fortress of the Baratheons. But the you f boy has never lived alone, without his brothers, and Stannis knows he will consider his departure as treason.   
Once he is there, he announces Renly their departure. The boy bursts out crying. Embracing his little brother, he promises him he will always be there for him, and tries to calm down his sobs, but only Serena manages to do so. He would like Robert to be here, so he can see the harm he is doing to his whole family. But, would the king care? No, he would mock Renly’s tears, as he has always mocked the ones who did not react like him. Stannis leaves Serena with Renly to get the Targaryen fortress ready for them. While he is in his office, writing several letters to be assured of different Lords’ presence for Robert’s wedding, and other letters announcing he is leaving Storm’s End, someone knocks on the door. After he’s been invited to come in, Cressen appears in the doorway. Stannis gently smiles at him:  
“Hello Maester. To what do I owe the pleasure?”  
Silently, Cressen holds a letter at him. Stannis raises an eyebrow and reads it: it is written to Robert, and is asking that Cressen would be appointed as maester of Dragonstone, to stay with Stannis. Usually, the maesters are not linked to a house or to a Lord, but to a fortress or a castle. It is a very unusual demand, but Stannis cannot help feeling proud and honoured by Cressen’s inquiry. He knows their relationship has always been different from the one with Robert and Renly. When he is done reading, he folds back the parchment and holds it back at Cressen:  
“Don’t have too much hope” he gently says. He doubts Robert would accept, as he would know he would do him a favour.   
“I know Robert as well as I know you, Stannis. He will accept I’m sure of this.”  
Stannis nods, looks at the maester for a moment before letting him go. 

King’s Landing, a few weeks later

Serena, Stannis and Jon get in the Great Sept to attend Robert and Cersei’s wedding. All the greatest families are here, once enemies, now united under the black stag’s banner. The only family missing is the Martells. They have never forgiven Robert how Elia and her children have been treated. A few times after the war, Jon Arryn has been to Sunspear, Dorne’s capital, to be sure of their support. No one have really know about the exact conditions so that Dorne would not ask for justice for their princess’s death, but, when he has gotten back to King’s landing, Robert has announced the betrothal of Renly with Arianne Martell, a little girl his age. It has been common that, to make alliances, betrothals have been agreed, way long before the betrothed could marry. Jon Arryn had to insist on the fact that the order of killing Elia had come from Tywin, and not from Robert. Serena watches Cersei coming in the Sept, along her father: she honestly is the most gorgeous bride she has ever seen. Her blonde hair fall until the crook of her kidneys. Her emerald green eyes are shining, and her lips broadly smile. She has the reputation of being the most gorgeous woman of the kingdom, and Serena feels like she is a peasant by her side. Holding Jon in her arms, she makes him wait as she can and is relieved when the ceremony is over. She follows the other guests to the feast, letting Jon walking when she gets there. The baby has made his first steps a few days before the wedding, but is already well assured on his legs. While Serena keeps staring at him, she suddenly notices another baby, about the same age as Jon. She gets closer from him, and he gives her a curious look before suddenly smiling. A laugh rings out behind Serena, a laugh she would recognise among thousands and she turns around brutally: Ned is here. She rushes into his arms and they hug tightly. She is happy to see him, even more since Benjen could not come to the wedding, being since a few weeks a member of the Night’s watch, according to his wish.   
“I see you have met Robb” he smiles.   
Serena gasps with surprise and looks again at the baby, who now pats Jon’s head.  
“Your son?!” She exclaims.  
“Well, yes” Ned laughs. He motions Cat to join them.   
“Lady Catelyn” Serena greets her with a curtsey, immediately greeted back by Catelyn. “How are you?”  
“Very well, my Lady, thank you. Your son is very handsome” Catelyn smiles gently.  
“So is yours, my Lady” Serena says again. “What a beautiful hair colour” she beams looking at Robb. She now understands why Ned was insisting so much about leaving Jon to her: Robb has been conceived during Ned’s wedding night, and Catelyn would have been quite mad seeing him coming back from the war with a baby the same age. She can understand that very well. While she is looking at their little ones, she is a little more stroke by their characteristic features: Robb is a real Tully. The auburn hair, the blue eyes. Jon, him, is Ned’s spitting image.   
Stannis, while chatting with Renly, sees Ned, Catelyn and the children, and is ready to join them when Lord Tyrell calls at him, Robert by his side. Stannis does not have any hate towards Lord Tyrell: he has done what any other commander would have. He has taken advantage of his assets to win a battle.   
“Lord Stannis” Mace Tyrell bows.  
Stannis bows back, and gives an I qui ring look to Robert.   
“Lord Tyrell has proposed, to strengthen our alliance, that his son Loras would be send to Storm’s End, as Renly’s squire. What do you think?”  
Stannis nods:  
“It’s a good idea”  
Renly will need company, alone in Storm’s End.   
“When do you think he will go?” He adds.  
“Loras is only two” Mace explains. “Ten years old sounds like a good age to me” he looks at Robert who nods in turn. Stannis smiles nodding and apologises as he leaves to Ned, whom he warmly hugs. The two friends lengthily talk, Serena learns to know Catelyn, whom she finds gorgeous, sweet and nice. They eat side by side during the feast, and turn to Robert when he’s asking for his hosts attention:  
“My Ladies, my Lords, thank you all for having such long journeys to share this historical day with my beautiful bride and myself. I wanted to take the most of the good mood to tell you all about my small council”  
Everybody cheers, and he laughs loudly before claiming:  
“You all know my Hand will be Jon Arryn. The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard will be Ser Barristan Selmy; the great Maester, Maester Pycelle; the Master of coins, Lord Baelish; the master of whisperers, Lord Varys; the master of laws, my brother Renly; and master of ships, my other brother Stannis! Let’s acclaim them!”  
Serena kisses Stannis to congratulate him, but the young man does not feel much enthusiasm. Renly, master of laws? What a madness. The young boy is only seven, what could he know about laws? He smiles slightly to the people applauding, and sits back with the other members of the council. He looks at Ned, who smiles at him raising his glass:  
“How is it possible that you have no seat at the council?” Stannis asks him.  
Ned laughs:  
“Robert has proposed me to be the master of laws but I refused. Life at court would not suit me.”  
Stannis laughs in turn, a bit relieved. Renly looks like he has been a second choice. Robert has not totally lost his mind. After the congratulations, Robert announces the constitution of his Kingsguard: Barristan Selmy, Jaime Lannister, Mandon Moore, Meryn Trant, Boros Blount and Preston Greenfield. A Kingsguard way less prestigious than Aerys’ but still having two of the best knights the kingdom has ever known.   
Stannis and Serena leave King’s Landing at the end of the fortnight, after having spent a lot of time with Ned and Cat. They organise their future life, between Dragonstone and the capital. After a few weeks, they definitely settle in the master of ships’ rooms in King’s Landing, making sure to visit their lands regularly. Serena enjoys life at court a lot, and tells herself her happiness is complete at last. Stannis, him, takes care of the task Robert confided in him with devotion and talent. The royal fleet, under his command, becomes prosperous, and strong, equalling the one of the Tyrells.


	25. The she wolf and the lioness

King’s Landing, 285 AC

A radiant sun is shining this morning, illuminating the sleeping city of King’s Landing. Although, in the red keep, in the master of ships’ apartments, laughs and moans can be heard: Stannis and Serena are making love, as every morning. They have moved the sheets away, and their bodies shining with sweat slip against each other. Heat is stifling lately, day and night. It does not curb the two spouses’ desire, and Serena violently bites Stannis’ shoulder as she comes. Sticky and sweaty, he kisses her quickly before collapsing at her side, and going to wash in a tub. He dresses up under his wife’s look, and kisses her one last time before leaving to his office. Serena often gets back to sleep and, when she wakes up, she follows the same ritual than her husband. She goes and wakes Jon up, and they both join the king, who wakes up way later than the members of his small council. There, they meet Stannis and share their meal all together.   
This morning, the new Lord of Dragonstone has decided to go buy a mare for his wife, and Serena has thought she would buy him a stallion, as a replacement for the one lost in Storm’s End’s siege. Bringing with them a few guards, and holding Jon’s hand, they leave the Red Keep for the centre of the city. Serena makes sure to take some coins to give to the poor. The young Lady is very loved by the people: sweet, loving, generous, smart, she has quickly understood that being loved by the people was a way greater power than what the other Lords thought. While they are passing by a few poor neighbourhood to go to the stables where they will find what they are looking for, she gives coins and pieces of bread. The rebellion has left the country worn out: many poor people have lost everything. House, husband, wife, child... Serena can just sympathise with them and try, the best she can, to make them feel a bit better. People thank her for her attention, and soon, she has nothing left to give them. She gives sorry looks to the ones she could not help and follows her husband to the stables. They are welcomed by the owner, who show them the different horses available. Serena rides a few ones but they are either too slow, or too nervous, until she gets on a beautiful grullo mare: black, long and soft hair that almost fall on its eyes, a grey coat that shines under the sun, the bottom of the legs black as coal. She loves her immediately and, as she makes her walk, admires her harmonious and distinguished pace. She asks the owner her name, and he answers she is called Quicksilver. Stannis smiles watching her and he nods slightly. Serena smiles and strokes the mare’s mane. Her husband pays for the horse and chooses a beautiful black piebald stallion, that Serena insists to pay for. They leave again with their horses, Quicksilver and Onyx.  
While they part again in the Red Keep, Serena leaves to the Queen’s room: it’s a gorgeous spot in the heart of Maegor’s citadel. The queen’s court is gathered here and Serena has to be there. She brings Jon with her, despite the fact that there is no young children to play with him: the queen is not even pregnant yet. While she’s holding Jon by the hand, she gets in the room guarded by two men. The chiselled panelling, the shining mirrors almost blind her and she slightly winces as she gets in. Cersei is sur among her court, sipping a glass of wine. She looks bored to death.   
“Look! Here comes the she wolf and her pup!”she exclaims seeing Serena and Jon. The Lady of Dragonstone holds herself back from spitting in her face and curtseys.  
“Your Grace” she greets, imitated by the thin voice of her son. She bites her lip to not laugh and leaves Jon to play with his little wooden soldiers. She sits by Lysa Arryn, Jon Arryn’s wife and Catelyn’s sister. Silently, she takes out a coat she has started to sew, for Stannis, and goes on working on it. Suddenly, someone snatched it out of her hands. She is about to protest but looks up: it’s Cersei who has done this, and who now stares at it with a disgusted pout.  
“Is it how you thank him for being such a sweet husband? I dare to hope you use something else for this” she spits on throwing the coat on her knees. If Serena did not know Cersei that well, she would swear she is jealous. But of what? She’s the richest and the most powerful woman of the realm. She is a Lannister, and a queen. What could she dream more of?Serena tries to calm down and gets back to her sewing. Cersei sits back down, drinking wine again.  
“So, dear sister in law, how is your husband? “  
Not sure of understanding, Serena frowns:  
“He is very well, your Grace”  
Cersei bursts out laughing. She should laugh more often, Serena thinks. It makes her even more beautiful.   
“In bed” the Queen precises, and Serena feels herself reddening, even more when the other ladies are staring at her.  
“He is perfect, your Grace” Serena mutters, embarrassed. She does not like talking about her private life, and though she would like to tell everyone how much Stannis makes her happy.   
“At least, he has given you a son” the Queen sighs and Serena looks at her gently.   
“You are young, your Grace. You will have children. If I can give you an advice...”  
Cersei interrupts her with a gesture:  
“I don’t need advices from a Stark. I know very well that your women are breeders” she says with such a despising tone that shocked whispers can be heard. Serena looks down, ashamed, angry. She would like to talk back, but the words would outrun her thoughts and she cannot do that: Cersei is the queen. She comes to think she is eager to leave to Dragonstone, even if she appreciates the life there way less than in the capital: at least, she does not need to live with those endless humiliations.   
“I am sorry if I have offended you, your majesty” Serena tries to stay as calm as possible to apologise.   
Cersei slightly nods as if forgiving Serena is an exploit. The you g wife gets back to sewing Stannis’ coat, and Jon walks to her, pull on her dress insistent:  
“Milk!” he asks.  
Serena takes him on her knees and bares her breasts to breastfeed him. Cersei looks disgusted again:  
“Your son should already be weaned.”  
“In the North....” Serena starts before biting her lip. But it is too late. Cersei stands up, walks to her and moves her chin up brutally.  
“You are not in the North anymore, girl. It is time for you to realise it. And him” she points at Jon, “wears Baratheon’s name, not Stark’s. You need to realise that too.”  
Serena cannot hold back her black look. Jon, a drop of milk at the corner of his mouth, watches the queen, surprised.  
“I am not your girl, majesty” she coldly says. “Don’t touch me, or I will complain to the king” she hugs Jon.   
The queen smiles and her tone suddenly becomes sweet:  
“I tell you that for your own good, my Lady. No need to be so mad”  
She sits back down and Serena leaves the room as fast as she can. She spends her afternoon with Jon, playing with him, reading him stories, snuggling him. They join Stannis for dinner, that they all share, and she lays an asleep Jon in his bed. She strokes his dark locks smiling, and has a thought for her child, resting in her sister Lyanna’s grave. Before joining Stannis, she kisses her child’s brow, and strokes his face, peacefully asleep. She walks out on tiptoes, closes the door, and walks to the room she is sharing with her husband. Stannis and her have separate rooms, but they barely are there. They prefer being together, and hardly stand not sleeping in the same bed.   
When she comes in, her husband is already in bed, reading a few letters, pouting in a way she finds lovely. She closes the door behind her and Stannis looks up to her. She looks happy, he thinks as he stares at her. However, a few weeks ago, she has miscarried. Cressen has been unable to say why, but she has felt terribly guilty. Stannis has not lived this event the same way: a body does not reject a baby with no reason. And she has a child, an healthy one. They will have others, he is sure of that. He watches his wife taking her dress off, as on their wedding day, and she is naked, as on that night. She stands in front of the bed, smiling, pushing her hair back behind her shoulders so Stannis can look at her at his heart’s content. Motherhood has changed her, Stannis thinks. Her hips are more marked, her breasts heavier. She looks more like a woman than like a teenager, despite her young age. He places the letters by his side when she crawls to him, riding him. Stannis sits back, leaning his back against the bed’s head, and pulls her close, kissing her passionately, feeling already excited. Serena is too, apparently, because her hand quickly grabs his sex to guide it inside of her. He stares at her while they are making love, kissing, stroking each other, whispering sweet words. She stays against him after, catching her breath, telling him about what Cersei has said in the morning. Serena does not hide anything from Stannis. She does not like the idea of having more secrets than the one, so heavy, she has been forced to have. Stannis also tells her everything, at least she thinks. He talks about the respect he has for Jon Arryn, his conflicts with Robert, his worries about Renly who, while growing up, looks more and more like the king. Then, after last strokes, they fall asleep in each other’s arms.


End file.
